That Was When He Saw Her
by KayKayeLLe
Summary: FINISHED. Wilson's back story. Includes everything you ever wanted to know but were afraid to ask pertaining to the creation of Billy. FINALLY MEET WILSON'S TEEN BRIDE! Two years before Season 1.
1. Chapter 1

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Disclaimer: I do not own the character of Wilson or Geoffrey West (even though we never met good ol' Geoffrey), the town of GlenOak, Kennedy High School, or Billy West. They all belong to Brenda Hampton and The WB, among others.

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A/N: This was my NaNoWriMo fic. It's all about Wilson's back story- how he meets his (first) wife, how they got pregnant, and how she died. There will be no Camdens in this story at all. This story takes place from 1994-1995, two years before Season 1 of 7th Heaven.

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**That Was When He Saw Her**

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The door to the locker room opened and thirty-seven boys – mostly incoming freshman of the Southern California Boys Academy – filed out in their bathing suits and went toward the pool. Coach John Walker, Assistant Coach Al Abrams, and the boys from the team last year all awaited them. The noise level was as still as the water atop the twenty-five yard pool.

"Gentlemen, welcome," Coach Walker finally said once they all stood before him. "Thanks for coming out today. I'm Coach Walker," he gestured to his left," this is Assistant Coach Abrams," he pointed to the mass of boys at the side of the pool, "and those scrawny looking boys are the team you all desperately want to be a part of."

Wilson sized up everyone around him, just as he had done with his competition when first entering the locker room earlier that morning. Coach Walker seemed non-threatening enough. He was slender for a man of his age, but had some bulk around the middle. The graying blonde hair and navy blue tracksuit made him seem easy going, as did the way he held himself. Assistant Coach Abrams, on the other hand, was significantly more portly than Coach Walker. He had dark black hair and reminded Wilson more of Jabba Da Hut than anything else, minus the dark, leathery skin. The boys on the team were indifferent to the new meat, seeing as they were mostly juniors and seniors and wanted nothing to do with freshman, so everything seemed OK.

"So, um, let's see. There are a bunch of you-" he quickly counted as he pointed to each of the boys in front of him- "thirty-seven, and we only have five spots open, so good luck. I guess I want to start off by saying that our team has been ranked number one in the state since the school opened back in 1942, so if you make the team you will have a legacy to uphold. That being said, it's a great honor to be on the swim team. We don't take anyone who swims like crap, and we don't expect any crap from you in return, understand?" They nodded. "Good."

Assistant Coach Abrams jumped in; he hated it when Walker showed him up. "We'll be making three sets of cuts. You'll be called tonight if you are asked to come back for tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. So before you leave, don't forget to give leave your phone numbers. No beepers, guys, none of those crazy cell phones, just your house."

"Yeah, so line up over there," Coach Walker pointed to the far end of the pool. "Give your name and telephone number to Richie, he's the Captain, and then dive in; we want to see how you dive. Just dive off the side of the pool, don't use the platform right now. Dive in, come up, and freestyle down to the shallow end and we'll give you further instructions"

Richie started walking over and the group followed suit. Wilson walked in the group. He didn't really know anyone, like some of the other boys did, so he remained silent until he told Richie his name and dove in. His form was perfect, tight legs and fluid motion. His freestyle stroke wasn't bad, either. The coaches took notice.

Next, the coaches had the boys get out, jump in off the platforms, and freestyle two times back and forth, four times the length of the pool. Wilson climbed out, went to the end, and stood in line. He was third for his lane. Boys from the team stood next to the platform of each individual lane with a stopwatch and recorded the times.

"Name?" the boy said when Wilson was up.

"Wilson West." The boy scribbled it down and Wilson stood on the platform.

"Ready?" Assistant Coach Abrams yelled out. "One, two, and GO!"

Wilson darted off. Jump, light splash, big push under the water, up and swimming. He had form that only came with time, even though the only formal training he had had was from his dad when he was younger, when his dad had had more time for him. His father swam a bit in high school, so he taught Wilson in their own pool in the backyard. He swam the 100 meter in 56.37 seconds, give or take a little for the accuracy of the freckle-faced kid who was timing.

If they hadn't taken notice to Wilson before, everyone certainly noticed him now. He finished well before the pack of swimmers in his "heat".

"Mike, what was his time?" Walker yelled out.

"56.37… I think."

"Wow," Assistant Coach Abrams muttered. "What's your name, kid?"

"Wilson. Wilson West."

"You've made it West. You just broke the school's freestyle meet record by over two full seconds."

"Thank you sir," was all Wilson could say. Inside he was glowing, and even happier since he had received that kind of praise from the harder of the two. Wilson turned back to his peers, most of whom looked like they were ready to rip his head off. He could even hear the beginnings of unpleasant mumblings. The guy who was in front of him in line, though, came over to Wilson.

"That was great. Screw the rest of the guys. They're just jealous because they suck. Hell, even _I_ suck compared to you."

"Uh, thanks," Wilson said with a laugh. "I'm Wilson."

"Yeah, I heard. I'm Tyler. Hogan."

"Now the rest of you sissies," Coach Walker boomed, "you'd better step it up if you want to make an impression on us. Four more spots now, and we're only twenty-minutes into the first try out. None of you are looking all that amazing in the water."

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An hour later, they were all back in the locker room. The boys from the team came over to congratulate Wilson, in their own unique way.

"Good job man," Richie said, and then turned back to his pals. "I guess we know who's going to get all the girls at the Frosh Party." They all laughed.

"What's that?" Wilson asked with a slight feeling of audacity.

"Well," Richie answered in a condescending, explanatory tone, "Frosh equals freshman. That's you. A party is something we have where you get wasted and make out with five of the CGP girls- at least."

"I see," Wilson said, almost in a bashful way. CGP stood for "California Girls Preparatory", the all girls compliment to their posh all boys school. From what he had heard, all the girls there were gorgeous and came from lots of money. Being with them didn't sound too bad. "Getting wasted" didn't sound too great to a fourteen year old Wilson, but he didn't lead on.

"Whichever freshman had the fastest breaststroke time the year before, the next year they throw the freshman party. This year, "Richie tapped a shoulder of the kid behind him, "it's Danny's turn. Seblowsky, not Jenastia."

The boys walked away laughing and Tyler showed back up behind Wilson, completely dressed with spots on his t-shirt from where the water dripped onto his shoulders from his hair. "Their parties are legendary," he said. "That was half the reason I am trying out." He laughed "The other reason is they own the school. Swim is equivalent to football in a small town. You're set for life now. If you're on the swim team, you're in."

"Good to know." Life in the fast lane didn't seem too bad. Neither did being popular in high school. At least that was how it seemed in naïve eyes.

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Like it so far? There's another 48,000+ words to go! Review.

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	2. Chapter 2

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Wilson walked into homeroom on the first day of his high school career and looked around at the faces. No one from his middle school was going to this high school- they all attended public Kennedy High- so he didn't expect to really see anyone he knew. After a summer of being mad that his father made him switch schools just because "it was better for him", which Wilson knew only meant "we can pay for it, so you're going", he was finally there.

Surveying the room, he was relieved to see Tyler. He was sitting by himself, so Wilson went over and took the seat behind him. "Hey."

"Hey, you're in this homeroom?"

"Yup."

"Cool. Hey, let me see your schedule." Wilson pulled out the piece of paper from his khaki uniform pants and handed it to Tyler, who quickly compared it to his own. "Lunch, gym, and English. We don't have to take gym, though, since we're on a team, so we can get study hall if we want. Just another benefit of swim."

"How do you know so much about everything, anyway? Scope it out before you enrolled?"

"No. My older brother went here. He's twenty-one now. Nothing's changed though."

The late bell rang and the teacher entered the room with a few stragglers who had lost their way. She was a middle-aged woman with mousy brown hair and a bottom the size of a park bench. "OK, quiet. I'm Mrs. Eastmond. Welcome to SCBA. Let's take attendance." Roll call came and went, the announcements blared, and Wilson departed along with the rest of the children to their first day of school.

All was uneventful until lunch. He had found Tyler, and after buying lunch they went to sit down together at a table in the unofficial "freshman" section of the cafeteria. Richie showed up out of nowhere and leaned against their table. "Boys. What _are_ you doing?"

"Eating," Tyler answered plainly.

"You eat with us. There's a reason we have no much pull; we stick together. You break that pattern and you break the team and the entire dynamic of our fine high school. I implore you; come sit with us."

The other part of the cafeteria, the part Richie and everyone who wanted to be him sat at, was much nicer. The colors on the wall were happier, the tables were plentiful, and there was even a skylight. This was the part that housed all the upperclassmen by default, and was where the Dean showed the parents when they came to check out the school. The swim team had the center table- the center because they were there to show off. Wilson quickly learned that, besides himself and Tyler, these guys all had huge egos.

Richie addressed the table, like he normally did, as everyone began to eat. "There's practice after school, like there will be from now until Dooms Day… or the day when Abrams has a massive heart attack and we refuse to go back to practice because it brings back too many memories." They all laughed, half sincerely, half on cue. "And Friday, tomorrow, as I am sure you are all aware, is the Frosh Party, compliments of Danny. Seblowsky, not Jenastia." Again, the laughter. Wilson joined in this time. He felt he had to.

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After practice, the boys were all changing and showering in the locker room. Wilson had been a member of the team for a few weeks now, but he still felt like a bit of an outcast. Most of the younger kids resented him because he was regarded as some sort of swimming prodigy, and the older kids only fraternized with their kind. He only talked to Tyler in passing, and wasn't really sure if he would become a true friend or merely a swimming acquaintance. Either way, there was something missing.

Richie walked in, talking loudly with fellow seniors Jake and Steve. "You taking my sloppy seconds?" Richie asked Steve.

"Who, Becca? Please. She's been around…and then around again. I don't want any of that."

"I'd take her," Jake said.

Richie laughed. "I know you would. But you can't have her and neither can anyone else. She's mine. I saw her first."

"Whatever," Steve said and rolled his eyes.

"She's cute, though. You're lucky. Nice rack, and she puts out," Jake added.

"I'm not lucky, I'm Richie. But I have _gotten_ lucky, if you know what I mean."

The boys laughed at the allusion to sex. The pool wasn't the only place where the team was active. They'd been that way for years now, at least the older guys. That was almost their hazing; they took in wholesome boys and corrupted them by forcing them to de-virginize themselves with a random girl of their choosing out of extreme peer pressure. That was the cycle of high school and, more importantly, the cycle of the team.

Wilson dressed as normal until Richie came over to his locker, two away from Wilson's.

"You'll be at Danny's tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, I'm going."

"Good. My girlfriend's getting all the hot girls from CGP to come, and I'm bringing a keg. It's going to be great. Let's consider it your initiation. You swim well. If you party just as good, maybe I'll take you under my wing. You could be my new lackey. I'm always looking for one of those."

"What do you consider good partying?" Wilson didn't really want to be anyone's lackey, but he was interested in what becoming one entailed, if only for his own personal knowledge.

"Find yourself a girl for the night."

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Wilson showed up at Danny Seblowsky's house at 8:30. The party started at 8:00, but Wilson knew better than to show up on time. "Fashionably late" was the way to be. Plus, he was supposed to be the star of the night, the guest of honor if you will. They never show up exactly on time. People have to wait for them to arrive; it builds anticipation and excitement.

The house was dark, except for the headlights from outside streaming in through the window and a few strategic lights on on tables sporadically about the downstairs. There were some guys from school. But the girl to boy ratio was severely skewed in favor of the boys. It was about three to one; Wilson could not help but think that Richie had purposely saw to it that it turned out this way.

He walked around for five minutes, got himself a cup of beer (that he swore to himself before he arrived would be his only one) and continued to coerce through the mass of people until he stumbled upon Tyler.

"Hey man," Tyler said.

"Hey."

"Isn't this great?"

Wilson shrugged. "I guess so."

"You guess so? Did you see all the girls? You can't meet these types of girls at our school."

"Um, you can't meet _any_ girls at our school."

"…Right."

Wilson laughed and turned his head to survey the fairly blackened living room next to him. The house was huge, and he barely was able to take it all in on his first pass through. That was when he saw her. Her strawberry blonde hair that came to her shoulders was what first caught his attention. It was different than everyone else's shade of mousy brown or over-dyed blonde. She was talking to a friend in the back corner of the room, so the next thing he focused on was her lips. Then her chest, hips, legs. Gorgeous to say the least.

"Who are you looking at?" Tyler asked, pulling Wilson out of his momentary trance. He gestured in her direction with his chin. "The red head?" He nodded. "Dude, that's Becca. That's Richie girl. Don't even look at her."

He tried, but he couldn't help it. She was so darn endearing. She must have noticed him staring, because she looked up and right at Wilson. Then she started walking over.

"Oh crap," Tyler started. "She's coming over here now. What did you do? Richie's going to kill you. Literally kill you."

Wilson heard him, but he didn't really care. Not at the moment anyway.

"Were you staring at me?" she asked innocently.

"No. I-uh-no," he stammered. "Well, maybe a little bit."

She smiled. "That's cute. What's your name?"

"Wilson."

"Oh. O-oh. You're that freshman Richie was telling me about. The one who swims really fast."

"Yeah, that'd be me." His mind raced. He didn't know what to say, or what he was allowed to say. Everything was spinning. "Are you a senior?"

"A senior?" She scoffed. "I'm a sophomore."

"Oh." He paused. "Fifteen or sixteen?"

"Sixteen," she answered confidently.

"Do you drive?"

"Why of course. I got my car last week. A silver Audi 100- new."

Wilson smiled. He didn't know much about cars, but he did know that was a pricey luxury brand and model. "Nice."

Richie popped up out of nowhere and snaked his arm around Becca's waist. Wilson sighed and so did she. "I see you've met Wilson."

She nodded. "Just telling him about my car."

"It's nice," Richie admitted. "Not as nice as my Mercedes, but nice- for her anyway." Wilson nodded accordingly. "Come on babe, let's go."

Becca knew what that meant, but fortunately for Wilson he did not. The pair went off alone, leaving Wilson and the rest of the party behind. Wilson stayed around for another hour or so, mingling with the rest of the girls and talking with some of the boys from his school. It was only the second day of school, and the first weekend, and already he had made some new friends. He wasn't oblivious either. He knew he had quickly risen to the top of the social ladder, and although he did not understand why, he was not afraid to embrace his new status. He had another drink, decided to stay until midnight when the party started dying down, and left just before it ended.

On his way out, he passed a Mercedes sitting in front of Danny's house. He stopped and stared at it, comparing his life to what he thought Richie's was like. Wilson was well-aware of how asinine and jerk-like Richie acted, but a small part of him wished he could be more like him. Everybody loved Richie. And he had Becca, a girl way too pretty to belong to him.

Wilson heard footsteps behind him and turned around. Becca was lazily making her way to the car, chatting it up with a few of her girlfriends. She quickly shooed them away as she approached Wilson and stood in front of him, silent.

"Where did you head off to?" he asked.

"Well, you know. Whatever Richie wants, Richie gets. And he, apparently, he wants me. Every Friday night, around ten, for about 20 minutes tops. Then he lays there and starts at it again."

Wilson was happy the darkness of the night was able to conceal the light shade of pink his cheeks were turning. "Oh."

She laughed at him. "You're adorable, you know that?" Again, he blushed. Becca reached into her back pocket of her jeans, pulled out a pen, and reached for Wilson's hand. "Call me sometime," she said as she scribbled down her number. "Or don't. Whatever. I'm sure I'll see you around." And with that, she brushed past him and got into the car. Wilson was amazed. She was bold yet reserved all at once; he was jealous. Jealous of a girl. How pathetic was he.

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A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Shannon. NAME! lol

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You know you want to see Becca again and ride in her Audi. Review please.

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	3. Chapter 3

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The phone rang and Wilson answered it.

"Hey? You want to go to the mall with me, Scott, and Tim?" It was Tyler.

"I guess. What do you want at the mall?"

"Nothing, but that's where girls hang out."

"Fine. Is Tim driving?"

"Yup. He'll be at your house in two minutes."

Wilson laughed. "OK."

For a Friday night, the mall was pretty dead. Wilson and his friends surmised that it was homecoming for the local high school, so that was where most of the mall rats were for the night. Since most of the Kennedy girls weren't around, there were more from California Girls Prep. They cruised around the food court, outside the movie theater- anywhere they thought they could pick up chicks.

Just when they were about to give up hope, a girl came running up behind Wilson and covered his eyes. He grabbed her hands and turned around.

"Hey stranger," Becca said. "You didn't call."

"Well, that's because you have a boyfriend." Wilson could see her gaggle of friends behind her giving him dirty looks. He was no Richie.

"Yeah, so? He doesn't own me. I'm allowed to have friends."

"You want to be my friend?"

"Maybe. You'll have to call me to find out."

"Oh, I see." Wilson smiled a genuine smile. "I'll call you then. One day, I promise."

"OK. I'll see you around. Bye Wilson."

She left with her five friends, giggling away and skipping off. Tyler, Scott, and Tim all gave Wilson a domineering yet approving glance. Wilson could tell what they were all thinking by their looks, but he waited for someone to verbally say it. Of course it was Tyler.

"She's Richie's girlfriend and everything, and I don't know how exclusive they are, but she definitely wants you. Bad. You're a lucky guy, she's gorgeous."

"Yeah, but Richie'll kill you if you touch her. He's very protective of her," Tim added.

"I know. This was only the second time I've talked to her. Calm down."

Tyler scoffed. "Dude, she gave you her number. She wants you to call her. How can you not see it?"

"Look, nothing is going on. There's nothing to see. Stop making such a big deal out of nothing."

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When Wilson returned from the mall at 9:30, he decided he would call Becca. He wanted to wait until Saturday, but part of him thought that would come off as rude.

"Hello?"

"Hi, It's Wilson."

"Wow. What, did you race home to call me?"

"No. I just got in and I thought I'd call. But if you don't want to talk to me then I can call back."

"I was kidding kid. Calm down."

"Kid?"

"Yeah. You are a year and a half younger than me. You're still a freshman; you're a kid."

"Ah, I see how it goes."

"Yup."

A lull in the conversation crept up on them. They both felt that this was wrong. Richie was going to find out and then they both would be in major trouble. And yet, neither of them really cared. Both for entirely different reasons, but the outcome remained the same. They stayed on the phone.

"So what do you want to talk about?" Wilson asked. He had no idea how to talk to girls, so he figured if he was honest and direct she might throw him a bone.

"I don't know," she responded nonchalantly. "Are you dating anyone?"

"No, but… what are you doing?" Against his better judgment, he forged forward. "Are you just toying with me to make Richie jealous or something?"

"Not really, but I could if I wanted to. I'm not like that though. I'd tell you if I was using you."

"How nice of you."

"I think so." She smiled. Wilson was a nice guy, too nice to dump most of her problems onto. The doorbell rang and saved her from getting too close. "I have to go. Richie's at the door. Want me to tell him you said hi?"

"Dear God no."

She chuckled heartily. "OK. I'll be seeing you. Bye."

"Bye."

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Seems Becca's got a little crush on Wilson. Whatever will happen next? Review.

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	4. Chapter 4

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Coach Walker blew his whistle, meaning everyone was to get out of the pool. Slowly, they all climbed out of their lanes and congregated around him as they awaited further instruction.

"Listen up." The boys continued talking. "Be quiet or I'll make you swim a kilometer!" Their mouths quickly shut. "Thank you. We're going to set up your relay teams today. The only team that's set in stone is Richie, Scott, Tyler, and Wilson. Richie on breast, Scott on back, Tyler on fly, and Wilson on free."

They were all pleased with the choice, save Richie who was a little perturbed that he was stuck with two freshmen and a junior. The rest of the boys grouped themselves together, but they realized it was pretty fruitless; Richie's group was obviously going to be used for any important meets. They were pegged to win from the beginning.

"OK," Walker said. "Back in the pool and start working on your relay. Don't kill yourselves. Go through the motions for now and we'll see how it goes."  
Wilson jumped in first, swam down and back, followed by Scott, then Tyler, and then Richie. Even doing a mediocre job, their team shined above all else. No matter how jealous they were, the rest of the team thought they were a shoe in for state's or even nationals.

When practice ended, Richie kept his group back for a second. "It's my senior year, and I really want to do well, rank nationally maybe, so we're going to have to put in a lot of work. You're all good, which makes it easier, but you're not great. Practice every Saturday morning from now until regionals." They all rolled their eyes at him. "Hey, shut up. I'm Captain of this team, and you'll listen to me or I'll tell Coach and he'll make your life hell."

"OK, OK," Tyler added. "Calm down. We'll practice."

"That's more like it."

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A few meets came and went, and the relay quadruplets were able to test out their skills in front of an audience. Singularly, in their own strokes, they were amazing. Wilson and Richie always came in first, and Scott and Tyler only placed second twice. Everything was going perfectly. All four had great promise. As a team, however, things were a little less nice. Richie yelled at them all the time because he was a senior and Captain. He thought that seniority trumped all else in the equation, even though he wasn't the best swimmer of the bunch. The Saturday practices were a nightmare.

"You're not fast enough Wilson. You're fast, but not fast enough," Richie yelled one day as he looked at the stopwatch. "You have to step it up. You're swimming with the sharks now."

Wilson snapped. This had been going on for weeks now and he didn't understand the problem. He was fine, the rest of the guys were fine. They dominated most of the competition. "I'm going fast enough. Fifty-five seconds is amazing and you know it. You're just jealous that I'm better than you. I could swim breast easy if I didn't do free."

"Why don't you just do Becca while you're at it? You know you want her."

Wilson was quiet for a few moments, choosing his words carefully. He figured that might be it, his conversations he'd been having with Becca at least twice a week. "We're just friends. We're just talking. Nothing is going on."

"That's not what her friends tell me."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "What does Becca say?"

"Nothing. She never even mentioned you. That's why I know you have to be doing her."

"For the love of God I'm not! How can I prove that to you?"

"You can't, but she can. You know what, I'm going to go ask her right now." Richie glared at Wilson, and then looked to Scott and Tyler. "We're done here. You can go home."

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The next four weeks, they all swam alone. Richie wouldn't even look Wilson in the eye. He began to wonder exactly what it was Becca had told him, but he didn't want to ask her. He was afraid to get in the middle again. Swimming meant way too much to him. He knew that one more fight with Richie would get him kicked off of their team, and any chance of glory would be up to him in the much more competitive freestyle races. He deserved recognition; he wasn't about to screw this up over something as stupid as a girl. However, Wilson should have known that Becca would call him eventually. There was no way that she would avoid him forever.

"Did, uh, did Richie say something to you?" Becca asked. The tone in her voice was different. It wasn't just because she was talking about Richie. She seemed scared in general. Something was up.

"Yeah, about a month ago. He almost took my head off."

"Yelling about us talking?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry. He's kind of hot headed. And I'm an idiot, because I know him, I know how he gets. I never should have been talking to you. I'm so stupid."

"You're not stupid. You should be allowed to talk to me. No guy should control you're life."

"I know…" she said forlornly.

"But, I don't think we should talk anymore. At least not until regionals are over. I don't want it to screw swim stuff up."

"That's in two weeks, right?"

"Yeah."

"OK."

"All right. Bye Becca."

"Bye. Oh, and Wilson?"

"Yeah?"

"Good luck- with regionals and Richie."

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Richie's just a tad bit crazy. Just wait until he goes fully crazy. Review.

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	5. Chapter 5

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Wilson dried his hair with a towel and slung his duffle bag over his shoulder. It was Sunday afternoon and wasn't one of Richie's scheduled practices. Wilson liked to come and work on his swimming by himself a lot; it helped him work things out in his head. His life wasn't all that eventful, and except for school stuff he was pretty stress-free, but there were still minor bumps and bruises along the way.

He was just about to leave when he heard voices in coming from the back of the locker room. Normally, he wouldn't have thought anything of it, but one of the voices was a girl's. This was the boy's locker room- heck, this was a boy's school! Who had brought a girl into the locker room? Wilson decided to curb his curiosity and not peek around the wall that held the other part of the locker room. They probably weren't doing something he needed to walk in on.

Just when he was about to leave, he heard someone yelling- Richie. Was he in there with Becca? He waited for her to say something. She didn't for a while, he just kept yelling. When she yelled for him to get off of her, though, Wilson was sure that it was her. All of those phone conversations had trained him in the art of determining Becca's voice.

"Get off Richie!"

Against his better judgment, Wilson charged into the back of the locker room. He had this feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him that if he wasn't going to stop whatever was going on back there, then no one would. When he appeared, they both stopped moving and froze. Wilson wasn't sure what he was seeing. Richie had his hands clenched tightly around Becca's wrists.

"What's going on?" Wilson said.

"Nothing, we were just talking. You know, like you two do. Bye Wilson."

Becca tried to break free of Richie's grasp, but she was having a difficult time. She didn't seem too scared, so Wilson wasn't concerned.

"Um, maybe you want to let her go," Wilson said.

"I don't have to let her go. Don't you know she likes it rough?"

"Let go of me Richie!" Becca finally screamed.

"No. You're my girlfriend. I can do what I want with you."

"That's ridiculous!" Becca said. Richie failed to listen. "Those are my wrists, not yours."

Wilson knew he had to do something. He stepped in between Richie and Becca, but only with limited success. He refused to let go of her. Wilson didn't want to do it, but he felt physical force might be necessary to maintain Becca's safety. He pushed Richie by the shoulders, but the only thing that accomplished was having Richie pull Becca with him as he stumbled backwards.

"I-I'll hit you. Don't make me do it."

"Oh yeah? I'd like to see you try."

Wilson formed a fist and looked around nervously. He had never hit someone before, and he wasn't really sure what to do. But when he saw Richie's knuckles turning white as he clutched Becca against her will, he turned off his brain and swung without thinking. With one hard and fast blow to the head, Wilson had done it. Richie let go of Becca on impact and flung backward. He held his bruised eye and glared at Wilson with his good one.

"Fine, take her. I'm done." Richie grabbed his things and walked out the door.

Wilson and Becca looked at each other. Neither knew what to say. The sexual tension was insurmountable.

"Uh, thanks."

"Oh, it was nothing. Are you OK?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Now, the question Wilson was really wondering. "Does he do that to you often? Does he, uh, does he hit you?"

"No, never. He'd been threatening me for a while, since he found out we were talking, but that wrist thing was the only time he acted on it. He'd been acting weird lately; I think he was threatened by you. It was funny really."

"OK," he said. "As long as he didn't hurt you or anything."

"No, no."

He smiled and picked his stuff back up. "Wait. Do you think that I'm going to get kicked off the team now?"

"Right before regionals? Never. You're probably the best swimmer in the country your age. Don't worry about that."

"OK." Wilson shifted his weight. "I guess I'm going home now then."

"Do you have a ride?" She raised her eyebrows.

"No, I was walking."

"I can give you a ride; I have my car. It'd be the least I can do." Wilson looked skeptical. "I'm a decent driver, I swear."

"I believe you." It had nothing to do with her driving ability. Wilson just wasn't sure he wanted to be alone in a car with her. He'd heard stories that she was pretty wild, and some of the stuff she alluded to in their conversations was far more than Wilson ever dreamed he was capable of.

She knew he was still not sold on getting a ride from her. "I won't kill you. I promise."

Wilson knew there was no possible way he could say no without being rude. "OK, fine. Thank you."

Becca led Wilson to her car. It was amazing, way too nice of a car for a sixteen year old, much less a sixteen year old girl. He knew that she didn't appreciate it like she should, but he didn't care. What she felt and what she had was no business of his. He was barely friends with her. Becca drove him the two miles back to his house and pulled into his driveway.

"There was no way you could have walked this. It was far."

"It not _that_ far."

She turned in her seat to face him. "Well, you're in good shape. I'm sure you could have done it." Her eyes met his. "Those muscles have to be good for something other than swimming." Wilson blushed and blinked his eyes. "So, uh, can I come in or are you just going to say 'thanks for the ride, have a nice life'?"

"N-no. You can come in if you want."

"I want," she said as she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door.

Wilson opened the front door and let her in. He dropped his bag and turned to her, awaiting her reaction.

She sized up the place. "Modest. Cute. What does your dad do?"

"Oh, he's an ophthalmologist."

"So, he's at work then I take it? Doctor's work all the time."

"Yeah. He's not here, won't be until sometime late tonight."

She inched a tiny bit closer to him. "And what about your mom? Does she work?"

Oh boy. "No, she doesn't work. But, uh, she's in Chicago visiting my grandmother. She won't be home for days."

"I see." She smiled seductively. "We're home alone then?"

"I guess so, yeah."

Becca looked around and saw a couch in the living room. She went over there and made herself comfortable. He followed her and laughed at how forward she was. The security of the familiar plush brown couch almost erased how nervous she was making him. Becca moved over so that her leg was brushing Wilson's.

"What you did for me, that was really nice. I want you to know that I appreciate it."

"I know. And it wasn't that big of a deal. You don't have to keep thanking me."

"I feel like I have to," she admitted. "You're such a nice guy. I'm not used to even talking to nice guys. Girls like me don't get guys like you." Her face went closer to his. "But when we do, we usually corrupt them."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, breathless.

"Yeah," she whispered back. Her faced went closer and closer until her lips touched his and she kissed him. The kiss was light at first but she quickly deepened it, pressing harder against his lips. Wilson started out timid but his strength was growing exponentially. His hands went to her face and held her to him gently in a firm manner.

Becca parted her lips and allowed Wilson's tongue to enter. A minute later, before Wilson really grasped the full, or even partial, gravity as to what was happening, his hands started to go under her shirt. He pulled off her shirt and, not to be outdone, Becca pulled off his. She ran her fingers down his muscular torso- the one she could only look at but not touch at all those swim meets she attended. There was nothing like a swimmer's body. Wilson lowered her down onto the couch and laid on top of her. He kissed his way down her cheek, down her neck, and along her collarbone.

Becca moaned and pulled him up closer so that she could nibble on his ear. From her experience, guys loved that. The contact of their skin put them both on sensory overload, but they were miles away from having no clothes on at all. Becca undid his pants and Wilson kicked them off his ankles, leaving him only in his boxers. As he inched closer to her cleavage with his lips, Wilson unhooked Becca's bra with only a slight amount of her help.

Wilson didn't look into her eyes the entire time. Sure, he looked at her, but there was a minimal amount of connection at best. When they both laid on the low-pile white carpeting afterwards, with Wilson's hand snaked around Becca's trim waist, they knew it was more about the hormonal charge they got out of it rather than the spiritual connection. Becca was able to get in a ten minute nap – she was exhausted from doing most of the work- but Wilson was too wired to even contemplate sleep.

"So, am I good or am I good?" she said after forty-five minutes of dead silence.

"You're good." He kissed her shoulder. "Very good."

She nodded and waited a moment before posing her next question. "Wilson, was that your first time?"

His whole body turned red from embarrassment. "Yeah. Could you tell?"

"Not really. I just had a hunch, that's all."

"Was _I_ any good?" Being a guy, this was important to him, especially since he was just with a girl who he believed had had multiple partners.

She laughed. "You weren't bad."

"What's so funny?"

She rolled out of his grasp and sat up, reaching for her clothes. "Nothing. It's just guys don't usually come right out and ask me. At least not that soon anyways."

"Yeah, but I'm special."

She finished putting on her clothes and stood up. "Yes you are." Becca bent down and kissed the top of Wilson's head. "Bye." And with that she walked out of the house just as quickly as the whole thing had happened.

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A/N: Yeah, so this was a new thing for me, writing out about a quarter of a sex scene. I hope it didn't turn out totally awful. …I don't remember if there are any more after this. I think there is one like this, but that's it. The rest is alluded to. OK, well enough of this. I just hope this whole chapter wasn't weird; that it wasn't one of those things that make sense to me but not to anyone else.

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Rawr! Getting feisty, aren't we? Review.

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	6. Chapter 6

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Practice on Monday was interesting to say the least. Everyone had heard about Richie and Wilson's scuffle in the locker room the day before – Wilson didn't know how, but they did – and that was the talk of the entire day. The lunch table was tense, and the whole school was practically reaming with the impact. Practice, however, was where they couldn't avoid each other. They could for a little bit, while they swam by themselves, but the relay practice was unbearable.

Coach Walker wasn't oblivious. He could sense something was off with the team, and through the snide remarks and the comments made by the other swimmers, he deduced there had to be a problem between Wilson and Richie. Never being one to beat around the bush, he pulled them aside and outside of the pool area to talk to them in private.

"I don't know what's going on, but you two better kiss and make up. Regionals are in two days boys. Now what's happened?"

Both boys glared at each other and then said nothing. Wilson thought back over what happened. He was willing to take the fall for the whole incident. After all, he was the one who punched Richie. "Um, I saw Richie yesterday and he was doing something that I didn't agree with so I hit him."

Coach Walker looked concerned. "You're not doing drugs, are you?" Richie shook his head adamantly. "Girls? Were you two fighting over a girl?" Neither of them said anything. "Don't get your panties all in a bunch, especially over a girl, especially now. Suck it up for the team. Now get back in the pool. Fighting at my practices will not be tolerated."

Both boys nodded, mumbling their "yes sir's" and went back toward the water. The whole team looked at them as they walked back in shame for being reprimanded. Richie contemplated pushing Wilson into the pool, but decided that was unbecoming of a captain so didn't. Wilson was afraid that he would, and was relieved when he finally got back and joined the rest of the team dry.

Practice was rigorous that afternoon. Five hours to be exact. They wanted to make sure everything was picture perfect for regionals on Wednesday. All the boys left exhausted. Wilson got home and, since no one was home anyway, he just crashed and slept until the next day. Tuesday was the same way, except practice was only four hours. Coach didn't want them to be so tuckered out that it would hinder their performances.

Regionals finally came. They were at a pool three towns away, about a twenty-five minute drive. The bus ride there was silent; everyone was getting into their zone. They ended their season undefeated, but now it was November. The slate was wiped clean. Also, their school had a reputation of excellence to uphold. There was certainly a lot of pressure riding on this meet.

They reached their destination and got off of the bus. The meet was at a YMCA, and it wasn't in a very good area. The town itself was decent, but the part it was located in was a bit rough. Some comments were made as they went in about how dingy the place looked and how every meet should be held at their pool because it was gorgeous, especially in comparison.

A half an hour later, the meet started. Parents filed in and took there seats on the bleachers, as did kids from the schools that were participating. Wilson's mother had to extend her trip in Chicago, but his father promised that he would show up late. Late should have been better than never, but since his relay was up first, he might as well had not bothered to come at all. His freestyle race was later, so Wilson counted on him seeing that. He knew he would qualify for states and his dad would be proud of him. He just needed to get there and show some interest in Wilson's life.

Wilson put all of his problems outside of the pool and concentrated on the relay. Scott was going to be first to swim backstroke, then Richie with the breaststroke, Tyler doing the butterfly, and then Wilson with his superb freestyle. The race began and Scott started to swim. He fell into the middle of the pack, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't come out on top. Richie fell behind a little, but mostly maintained Scott's mediocre start. Tyler picked it up a bit, but not enough. When he touched the wall, they were currently in third.

Wilson was quick off the block. He dove straight in and stayed underwater for a third of the length. He came up fighting. He passed one of the kids with ease, and after the turn passed the other. Audible gasps came from the audience. Wilson came in nearly a full second faster than the next team with a remarkable come from behind win.

When he climbed out of the pool, his teammates rallied around him and everyone clapped. It was fun being the star. All his glory was short lived, though. As to be expected, coaches from three of the other teams ran over to the judges screaming. Coach Walker and Assistant Coach Abrams rushed over to fend for Wilson. He looked on as they all screamed and yelled at each other. One coach broke away from the pack and came right over to Wilson.

"What are you on? You have to be on something!"

"Excuse me?"

Assistant Coach Abrams came over to explain. "They think you were taking performance enhancers. They want you to be drug tested."

His jaw dropped. "What? Coach, you know I'm not on anything."

"Yeah, but they don't believe that. And neither do the judges."

"So?"

"So either you get drug tested under the supervision of the doctor on hand, or you have to forfeit your first place and can't compete in your 400 free."

No one was joking. "Fine, whatever. We've earned this; I've earned this. I'm not going to let them take it away."

Wilson was taking by a Dr. Parsons to the bathroom and held up the meet for twenty minutes while a 'sample' was collected. He came back out and the rest of the meet went on without a hitch. When he went up on the block for his four-hundred meter freestyle race, he received some booing. He shrugged most of it off and just concentrated on the water below him. The race started and he was off again. Back and forth, back and forth. All you could see was his streak of white from the splashing of the water; he was going so fast it was almost unperceivable. Fifty-five seconds on the nose. He won hands down. His status as a swimming prodigy was confirmed.

The race ended and two races came after that, and then it was all over. He'd gone to do his best and that was what he did. Now he was going to be the talk of the entire swim community in the state of California. He looked around the stragglers in the bleachers for his father but didn't see him. Of course he didn't show up. Wilson half anticipated it.

What he did find, however, wasn't what he expected.

"Hey," Becca said.

"Hi," he smiled. "I didn't know you were coming."

"Well, neither did I until this afternoon but here I am."

"Were you here the whole time?"

"Yup."

That wasn't possible. The meet started at 2:00 and was a half hour away from her school. She didn't get out of school until 2:30 anyway. "Didn't you have school?"

"I skipped."

"Very nice."

"I thought so." She jumped down from the bleachers and stood next to him. "So, if you didn't know I was here, who were you looking for?"

"My father, who promised to be here but, once again, failed to actually do it." He sighed. "So now I've missed the bus because I thought he actually might have shown up and I have no ride back."

She smiled at him. "See, now aren't you glad I skipped? Now you don't have to resort to public transportation to get you back home."

x

"So, how old are you, fifteen?" Becca asked Wilson.

"Yeah. My birthday's July's 2nd."

"Doesn't that make you in my grade?"

"No. They have all these weird cut-offs in GlenOak for kindergarten depending on where you lived and what elementary school you go to. You start a year later than everyone else does, but then it kind of balances out."

"How does that happen?"

He laughed. "I have no idea. But by high school most people are all settled."

"Except for you."

"No, I'm fine with being a freshman. And I'm only about a month or two older than everyone- tops. It doesn't make that much of a difference." He paused. "Guys are immature anyways."

"Speaking of immature, what about them making you get drug tested?"

"You saw that?" She nodded. "They're so stupid. Just because I'm good I have to be on steroids or something."

"So did you have to pee in a cup?"

He blushed, but then recalled Sunday's events. In comparison, this was hardly blush-worthy. "Yeah; some doctor guy took me. And then they whisked it off to some lab for testing. The results should be in tomorrow."

She turned to him, concerned. "He didn't inspect you or anything, did he?"

"'Inspect'?"

She winked. "You know."

"Oh, I see. No."

"Because I would have done it. If he didn't want to or anything. They could have called me and I would have checked you out."

He blushed again. "I'm sure you would have."

"Yup, could have been fun." They pulled into his driveway. "Last stop."

"Thanks. Do, uh, do you want to come in?" The only thing that would make today any better would and erase all the bumps would have been spending a few hours enjoying Becca.

"By come in, you mean-" He nodded. "You're not tired after all this?"

"Not too tired for you."

She laughed and opened her door. They walked to the house together. Thankfully for Wilson, his dad wasn't home. There was a note on the table, though. 'Wilson, Got hung up at work. Sorry I missed your meet. Won't be back home until 10.' How nice of him to leave some form of contact. Becca saw his face droop and she kissed his cheek. "Don't worry, my parents hate me. At least yours _like_ you."

Wilson decided it was time to do this proper if they were going to make this a habit. He took Becca up to his bedroom and shut the door. He sat on the bed and she followed. Wilson waited until she kissed him, and then kissed her back. He lowered down onto the bed and rolled to the side of her.

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Erm. See, they had to know that trouble would ensue. These crazy kids. Review please.

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	7. Chapter 7

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All of the boys except for one qualified for states, so practices resumed as usual- everyday after school until 4:30. States were in another month and, if they qualified, nationals were in another four. Since the boys had worked hard all season and for regionals, and were going to have to continue to work hard for states, they decided a party was in order. They needed something to celebrate their victories.

This one was going to be huge, though. Jack and Joe lived next door to each other, and they were using both of their houses. Someone even had 1000 flyers printed up to distribute at their school, California Girls Prep, the public Kennedy High School, and anywhere else people could think of. This was going to be the party of the year. The calendar year, at least. Once January came, there would be a whole new slew of swim parties to attend that would, hopefully, be bigger and better. That was the goal.

Wilson arrived fashionably late, just like at the last party. He only knew about a quarter of the people there, but it seemed everyone knew him and everyone wanted to talk to him. Guys wanted to be him and girls wanted to be with him. He'd always wanted to be popular, but this was ridiculous. He just wanted to enjoy himself, not have to keep up appearances and make the rounds.

He looked around for the one person who'd be able to save him from the madness, but he couldn't find her. He knew she was there; she _had_ to be there. Everyone was there.

A girl Wilson had never seen before came over to him. "You're Wilson, right?"

"Yeah, hi."

"Hi. Someone wants to see you out back."

Wilson thought this was odd, but he went anyways- through the living room, out the kitchen, onto the deck, and then down the steps. It was pretty deserted back there, except for a few stragglers. Hands covered his eyes and he touched them, lightly pulling them off.

"Hi Becca," he said as he turned around.

She didn't even answer him. Becca grabbed him and started making out with him.

"Not that I mind," he said as he pushed away from her, "but I like to be romanced a little first."

"Well, I just want to make out with you. What about me?" She kissed him again and ran her hands through the hair at the nape of his neck.

He was sold. Eventually, he pinned Becca against the fencing around the deck. His hands were up the back of her shirt, being only slightly more promiscuous than socially acceptable. Becca either stayed in his hair or ran her fingers down his torso from his chest to the belt on his relaxed cut jeans.

They were really enjoying themselves until they were spotted. One person saw them, and then called about twenty of their closest friends to see the two people making out on the side of the deck. When they finally noticed they were being watched, Becca broke away from him and grabbed his hand. She ran, dragging him with her. They went to her car, which was parked down the street, and climbed in the backseat. This time, Becca wanted to try something new. She climbed on top of him and picked up where they left off.

"I don't – want – to have sex - in - the back – of your car." He said when Becca allowed in between kisses.

She lifted off of him. "Why not? It's a lot of fun."

"Because - someone - could see us."

"That's the whole point."

He wasn't letting his guard down on this one. As he warded off her many advances, Wilson got to show her how authoritative he could be when pressed. To Wilson's dismay, she liked it, and just took it as some sort of game. After about an hour, it was becoming too hard to resist. He sat up and held her hands in his lap.

"What?" she asked.

"I don't want to have sex in the back of your car."

"I know, you told me."

"Then why are you still trying to seduce me?"

She giggled. "You think that's me trying to seduce you? Boy, you haven't seen anything yet." She shook her head. "Just wait. When I'm seducing you, you'll know." Becca was done with this little tryst. She opened the door and climbed out. Wilson followed suit. "Now carry me back to the party." Apparently, she could be assertive just like Wilson.

"What's wrong with your legs?"

"Nothing. I just want you to carry me."

She spun him around, placed her hands on his shoulder, and then hopped on his back. Wilson hobbled his way down the block and back inside the house. Everyone hooted and whistled when they came in. Neither of them shied away from the attention. Once it passed, though, Becca pinched Wilson's butt and instructed him to put her down. He did as she said and she ran off into the party.

Wilson was shaking his head as Tyler came up to him.

"You two were in the back of her car?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"And nothing."

"Nothing? You were out there for almost an hour. Plus the time you were in the backyard."

"So?"

"So, she was Richie's girlfriend. That's why you hit him? Because you wanted Becca?"

"No, I hit him because he's a jerk. Besides, they're done now."

"And you're dating Becca? Since when? Why didn't I know?"

"We're not dating."

"Oh, so you're doing the whole 'friends with benefits' thing then?" Tyler was very curious. Girls rarely looked at him because he was so skinny, so he had to live vicariously through his friends.

"No. We're not anything. Look, it's none of your business."

"You slept with her, didn't you?"

Wilson couldn't help but smile. "It's none of your business."

Tyler gave Wilson a congratulatory shoulder-slap. "I knew it."

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Ah, Tyler. He won't be so envious of Wilson later now will he? Please review.

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	8. Chapter 8

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Life got particularly hectic after that party. Wilson only had time to see Becca once in the month between then and states. Although they weren't exclusive and had never really been on a date, they were the talk of the school. The boys at SCBA gossiped just as much as the CGP girls did. Everyone wanted to know if Becca was the cause of the official falling out between Wilson and Richie, who Becca was, and how a freshman was ever able to steal a senior's girlfriend. People Wilson didn't even know would come up to him in the hallway and ask him pointed questions about what was going on in his life. It was very odd.

The semester was also coming to a close, and Wilson's grades weren't too great. Some of his teachers were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt since he was a swimmer, but a lot of them didn't. His Spanish teacher, Seniora Hernandez, really had it in for him. She thought it was despicable how athletes got to coast by on occasion, and insisted on failing him to prove a point. He'd pass all of his tests with a strong C, but he'd fail all the projects because she hated him. The rest of his classes were going terribly, too. Except for his solid A average in math, his best subject, he was running a C in everything else. It wasn't that he wasn't trying, he just didn't have the time to swim and study. Plus, when you are that in demand, your schoolwork takes a backseat to keeping your popularity up. His little affair with Becca had ended up skewing his views on everything.

Home was the only constant in his life. His mother had returned from Chicago, but his dad was still never home. He'd continually make promises to Wilson about being places and doing things that he would never keep, and Wilson just got sick of all the lies he was being fed. He spent as little time at home as possible. He would go to school, swim, and then stay out with his friends until it was time to go home and go to sleep. He went to the Thursday and Friday night parties, and really got caught up in the whole stereotypical high school existence.

Wilson sat in his bed the night before states. States was on a Saturday, so he had to be home by 10:00 on a Friday, which was unheard of. He laid back and stared at his ceiling. He thought about his life since he had started high school. He never imagined it would be this way, and he couldn't really admit that he was happy. Unhappy, no, but he wasn't happy either. He decided that he needed to make some changes. Nothing too major, but his life needed more purpose and direction. He placed himself back in his middle school frame of mind an remembered what he thought high school was going to be like. He was dead wrong about everything. There was no reason, though, that he couldn't scale back a little bit, and have something closer to that idealized existence that he came up with that past summer.

That was what came of that interval between regionals and states. Wilson began to loose himself, but made a conscious decision to pull back before it was too late and he couldn't change it. Satisfied with his decision and convinced that he was really maturing, he fell asleep.

x

States proved to be a lot harder and a lot more anxiety-riddled than regionals were. Unlike the puny competition at regional, people here were really good swimmers. They were really going to have to try their hardest to win, otherwise SCBA might be forced to relinquish their title as California state champions. And that was not an option.

Wilson looked around at some of the schools. He knew for a fact that some of them weren't that great, but others were just as good as they were. The more he thought about it, though, the more he decided not to think about it. If he could win the relay and his 400 free for his team, than he would have done all that he can do. Everything else is in the hands of the rest of his teammates, and correlates directly to the performance of others- that he definitely could now control.

His father had told Wilson straight out that he wasn't going to be able to make it to this meet, which was more of a relief than a crushing blow to Wilson's ego, and he didn't count on having Becca show up, so before the meet he arranged for one of the sophomores to drive him back, since no one was really taking the bus back anyway.

Wilson was out by the pool when Coach Abrams came over to him. "I was scouting the other guys, and none of them come anywhere close to your fifty-five second time. You've got your individual set, and the same for the relay as long as the rest of 'em don't mess it up too bad for you." Wilson nodded. "You look like you're going to puke. You OK?"

He nodded. "Yeah. It's just nerves."

The meet started twenty-minutes later and the crowd quieted. The only time they would make noise would be right when the race was about to end, or when Wilson's name was announced. Either they were afraid or jealous, but either way he was the talk of the event. And rightfully so, he thought. If some other kid was ten seconds faster than the competition, he would be concerned about him, too.

Again, Wilson won the relay for his team and smoked the competition later in his 400 meter freestyle event. The team as a whole only lost two events, coming in third on a fly and second on a back by Tyler. They awaited the results that confirmed what the boys already knew- they had won states hands-down. Everyone cheered and clapped. For the millionth year in a row, the Southern California Boys Academy's swim program came through. No one could have been happier.

The team went out for dinner afterwards to a local restaurant and then trekked the two hours back from central to their part of southern California. Scott drove Wilson back to his house and, when they pulled up, a car was parked in front of the house.

"You expecting company?" Scott asked.

"No. Uh, that's Becca."

"O-oh. I'll leave you two alone then." Scott playfully pushed Wilson out of the car and backed out.

Becca got out of her car and went over to Wilson. Her arms were crossed and she looked cold. Wilson put his hand on her arm and kissed her forehead lightly.

"What are you doing here?"

"Did you win?"

"Yeah. I won both my events and we came in first."

"Good." She sounded distant, like she really didn't care.

"So is that why you came? To see if we won?"

She shook her head. "No, not really." She looked down and then back up at him. "I have to talk to you."

Uh-oh. "Have to, or want to?"

"Have to."

Wilson brought her over to his front step and squatted down. She sat on his left. Tears whelmed in Becca's eyes but she quickly blinked them away; she was stronger than that. She focused on her breathing- in and out, in and out- and repeated to herself the way she decided to do this. Quickly, firmly, resolutely. In all actuality, she really hadn't thought this through. Becca never thought anything through all the way.

"Wilson, I'm pregnant with your baby." She just blurted it out and closed her eyes, afraid of his reaction.

The look on his face was of sheer bewilderment. "W-what? No. No you're not."

"Yes, I am. I found out two weeks ago."

"What? Two weeks ago?" he ran his hands through his hair. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to screw up states for you. I knew they were important- to you and to the whole team."

He still didn't grasp it. "Are you sure it's mine?"

"Wilson!" She hit the side of his arm.

"What? We never took a pact of exclusivity or anything. I don't know what you do when you're not with me."

She sighed in aggravation. "It's yours. Since we had sex that first time I've only been with you."

Five minutes elapsed before Wilson spoke again. "Look, um," he cleared his throat, "I've had a long day. I think I'm just going to go to bed. I-I'll call you." He stood and went into the house, leaving Becca outside all alone.

Becca let out a long, frustrated scream. "I hate guys!"

X

That Friday, there was yet another party to celebrate a victory for the SCBA swim team. Richie threw it this time, since he was the captain and he felt he lead his team to victory. Less people showed up than at the last swim party, but the turnout was still decent.

Wilson knew the party was happening, but didn't plan on going. That was, of course, until staying in his room became too much for him. His thoughts engulfed his being and that was all he could think about. Becca. A baby. Sex. The last four months had changed his entire life forever. He had never been more confused in his life. What Wilson did know, however, was that he had to talk to Becca and try to make some sort of sense of this. She had known for longer and kept it a secret; he had no idea how she was possibly holding up.

He walked in at a quarter past nine and prayed he wouldn't run into Richie directly. They still weren't speaking to each other. Actually, the only thing he was hoping to get out of this was to see Becca. He felt she was here. She had to be; his life wasn't that bad.

He ran into about a dozen people that he knew that wanted to party with him, but he just kept walking. He figured either Becca was drowning her sorrows in alcohol or in another guy. Fortunately for Wilson (and unfortunately for the baby), he found her doing the former.

She was wearing red, and her back was to him. He walked up behind where she was sitting and snaked his hand in front of her, taking the cup out of her left hand.

"How many of those have you had?"

She stood up and turned around. "Look, just butt out, OK? I don't-" He took her arm and started leading her out of the house. "What are you doing! Let go of me!" She started screaming as she went past people. "Help! Help! I'm being attacked!"

He smiled politely at his peers who were giving him strange looks. "Exactly how many of those did you have again?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. A few."

"A few…dozen perhaps?"

She started laughing hysterically once they got out on the lawn. "You're funny."

Wilson grabbed her face and looked into her eyes. "Bec-Becca, look at me." Her eyes went to his. "Good. Now, uh, I'm going to walk you home, and then we'll talk tomorrow, OK?"

"Anything you want."

They went down the street. Becca only lived about four blocks away, so the walk would only take ten minutes. Wilson figured he would use this opportunity to talk to Becca without getting as much sass since she was pretty drunk, at least drunk enough to be pleasant.

"So…have you really known you were pregnant for weeks?"

"Yup, weeks." She stumbled over her feet and Wilson caught her before she fell.

"And why didn't you tell me?" He wanted to see if she lied to her before.

She became slightly annoyed. "I told you already! Because of swimming." Her words were slurred. Becca stopped dead in the middle of the street and turned to look at him. "You have a chance to be something great. I don't. I didn't want to ruin that for you."

Wilson was quiet until they finally reached Becca's house. He walked her inside and she told him his parents weren't home. He knew that was just an invitation for him to spend the night, but he wasn't about to take her up on that. Instead, he carried her up the stairs and put her in bed, rolling her onto her side.

She reached up and touched his face as if she were blind. "Thank you, sonny."

He laughed at her. "Whatever. I'll see you tomorrow, OK?"

"…'K."

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A/N: You know, it really stinks writing a story beforehand and then posting it on here after. I have no idea where this is at, what the readers have read and not read- I feel so disheveled. …She's already pregnant? That was fast. OK, well I'm just ranting for no reason. I'm done now.

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Baby Billy is only 38,000 words away! Please review.

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	9. Chapter 9

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At seven o'clock sharp the next morning, Wilson knocked on Becca's door. There was no sign of life, so he rang the bell. Then he knocked again. Three minutes later Becca appeared in the same clothes she was wearing last night, her hair all messed up, and lipstick smeared outside the confines of her lips.

She squinted at him in the morning light as she opened the door fully and let him in. "What are you doing here at this ungodly hour?" she mumbled.

Wilson took in his surroundings. The house was all done in a crème and gold color scheme. The grand staircase in the middle of the back of the entrance way was done in marble. The carpeting in the side rooms was lavish and the furniture looked expensive. He knew that she came from money, but not this much money. Wilson was surprised.

"What?" he finally said.

She rubbed her face. "Shh. Use your inside voice."

He laughed. "Hung over?"

"Yeah. And you woke me up." She pointed to the couch in the formal living room and instructed him to sit while she went into the kitchen on the other side of the staircase and grabbed a water bottle out of the stainless steel refrigerator. "Want something to drink?" she yelled out to him.

"No, thanks."

Becca came in and plopped down next to him on the sofa. She was too tired and her head hurt too much to hold it up, so she moved and laid her head in his lap, flinging her ankles over the arm of the couch. She took a few sips and then swallowed. "Your legs are soft…like a pillow."

"Um, thanks?"

She laughed a little. "Do you ever just think that we're really stupid? 'We' as in people in general. We have no idea about anything we're doing. We make decisions on the fly and they're always the wrong ones."

"Not really, but it makes sense."

"See, like why didn't you want to have sex with me in the back of my car that night? Because you were afraid it was going to ruin your reputation? You were afraid someone would know we're sleeping together? Wrong decision. We could have done it; nothing would have been any different than it's going to be in a few months. Everyone's going to know."

"About that…" he said.

"Yes?"

He looked down at her face. "I'm going to level with you. I have a bunch of questions that I want to ask you but I don't think it's right to just blurt them out, blurt any of them out."

"This whole thing isn't right," she reminded him. "Just ask me. It'll make you feel better."

"Do you know how far along you are?"

"Two months."

"So when was that? The first time?"

She shook her head. "Too early. Probably the second."

"Are you mad at me? For not using protection?"

Becca took his hand. "Right now, I'm not looking to point fingers. Yeah, you could have. Or I could have said something. Or I could have stopped it all together. Or you could have. It's irrelevant really. Coulda shoulda woulda – didn't."

"Yeah," he mumbled. "So, so now what?"

"What do you mean now what?"

"Are you keeping it?"

Now it was getting serious. She sat up and took a swig of her water. "I want to know what you think first before I tell you."

He smiled. This was so like her to toy with him before doing anything. "Well, there's adoption and abortion, right?" She nodded. "I don't think I could live with myself knowing that I had a kid somewhere out there in the world and not know where it was or what it was doing. It wouldn't be right."

"And?"

"And abortion is bad. I don't know how you mentally recover from doing something like that. I don't know how safe it is, either. I'd be afraid for you." He sighed. "Now what do you think?"

"More or less the same as you." She picked up his hand. "I've thought about this a lot, before I ever met you and now after I found out. The whole teen sex thing is a crapshoot. It's good, but not good for you. Anyway, I want to keep it. I'm not a murderer or a quitter." She seemed to feel strongly about that, and that was the response Wilson was looking for, so he didn't really speak any more on it.

"Do you think we can raise a baby together?"

"Possibly. But you're a good guy. I have faith in you. You'll always be here when I need you." She paused. "Actually, I was happy that it was with you. Out of all the guys I've been with, you seem to have it together the best out of all of them."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"…So?"

He wasn't following. "So…what?"

"So you forgot one."

"One what?"

She laughed. "One question."

"How did you know?"

She just smirked. "I know lots of stuff."

"Fine. So who and when are we telling?"

That was exactly the question she was thinking he'd forgot. "Well, my parents hate me so you can do whatever you want with yours and we can never tell mine."

"You've said that before- that you're parents hate you. Why do you think that?"

"Um, because they do. It's…" she strained her head to read the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, "7:09 on a Saturday morning. Where are my parents? I have no idea. Do they know where I am? No. Better question- do they care? No."

"Why don't they care about you?"

"Because they're bad parents?" she asked in a mock question. "Who knows. I blame Stephanie."

Wilson was more confused than ever. "Who's Stephanie?"

"My sister." She seemed shocked. "I never told you about her?" He shook his head. "Oh. Well she's twenty. She's a junior in college. She goes to U Penn. Steph had her heart set on Berkeley, but she didn't get in. I don't know why, though. She's a genius. Anyway, my parents used to at least be around when she was younger. They never cared much, but at least they were visible. When she was in ninth grade they found out that she was doing cocaine. Or she did it. Once. And she hung around with people who did it." Wilson seemed shocked, so Becca tried to play it down a little bit. "We're rich kids living in a rich community going to a rich school. That's just what happens." He seemed to understand, so she continued. "So they went completely ballistic on her and they had this huge falling out and they barely spoke until she went off to college. She left and she hasn't been back since. Not for Christmas or Thanksgiving- nothing."

"That's awful."

"Yeah."

"So what does that have to do with you?"

"When she gave up on them, they gave up on her. And me. She raised me from fifth through eighth grade- until I realized that we had money and went through my whole 'I'm a crazy teenager' phase which I am still not fully out of. We were so close. But she didn't get accepted to any schools here so she had to go to school on the East Coast. It was either University of Pennsylvania or Duke."

"Does she still talk to you?"

"A little bit. She'll call on my birthday and maybe one other time during the year." She turned away from him and then turned back. "You're an only child, right?"

"Yup."

"Do your parents care about you? I notice they're never home either."

"My dad cares, and so does my mom. I just don't think they know how to deal with me. I haven't done anything wrong, besides this, but they just decided I was too much to handle so they've taken a step back lately. My dad cares, he's just busy. And my mom's dealing with her mother being sick, so that's pretty much all she has energy for. I kind of feel like I'm getting the short end of the stick."

She nodded. "If you feel that way, you probably are."

He nodded in agreement. "I have to tell them though. They'll be devastated, but I have to tell them."

"Do you think they'll be there for you?"

Wilson didn't even have to think about it "Yes. Definitely."

Becca smiled faintly. "That's the difference between you and me. I'm sure mine wouldn't give a damn."

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A/N: Is this all just that morning at Becca's house? Yeah. This whole chapter was just a cop-out. I didn't really know how to get all of this stuff out in the open, what they wanted to do about being pregnant now, so I just smushed it all into one long conversation. I don't really think it worked. Oh well.

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Hey, if you did a ship name for Wilson/Becca, you'd get Wicca. Hahaha. Review.

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	10. Chapter 10

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The next day was Sunday- the day Wilson's entire family was actually together. Under Becca's urging, they decided he was going to tell them without her. She didn't want to just show up to meet them the first time and drop a bomb like this. She didn't feel it was fair to them, and Wilson agreed. His mother, who felt guilty about being gone for the better part of the last few months, made them a real breakfast. There were pancakes, eggs, and sausage.

The smells of the breakfast reached every corner of the ranch house, waking both Wilson and his father from their slumber. They both bounded into the kitchen around the same time, donning the matching robes and slippers they got for Christmas last year with their pajamas underneath. They sat at the same time and smiled at Martha West. Dr. Geoffrey West put on his reading glasses and reached for the paper off the counter.

Wilson breathed in and out, concentrating on the motions of inhaling and exhaling. The family looked so happy and normal that he decided to wait at least until breakfast was over. He didn't want to ruin the meal that his mother had worked so hard on.

"So, son," Geoffrey said as he skimmed the morning's headlines, "how's swim going?" This was the first chance they had really gotten to talk since states.

"We won states. I officially have the fastest freestyle time in all of California. In a week or two well find out if we, I, qualified for nationals."

"See Martha? I knew being on the swim team would be good for him. He's a state champion. Congratulations."

Wilson took a bite of his pancake. "Thank you."

Within twenty minutes, he was done, his mother was done, and his father was done.

"That was nice, having a meal together for a change," his mother said.

"Indeed it was," said Dr West.

They were going to leave and funnel off into their separate sections of the house. Wilson had to grab them before they did. It was now or never.

Mustering up all the courage he could, Wilson spoke. "If I had something really important to tell you, would you listen?"

"Who, me?" his dad asked.

"You and mom, both of you."

"Of course."

"And…and if I did something, would you judge me?"

"Never, honey," his mother said. "You know that. We love you."

"Good because, um…" He stopped there. The words didn't seem to come.

"What did you do?" his dad asked.

Wilson felt half relieved. It was almost out. "I kind of- no, not kind of, I did." He was starting to sweat. "Two months ago, I got this girl pregnant. I'm going to be a father." There was no response from either of his parents for a long time. His mother looked like she had stopped breathing. His father appeared to be contemplating the grain of the wood in their kitchen table. "You guys still alive?"

His mother was first to speak. "I…uh…how- what happened?"

Before Wilson could answer, his father interjected. "Who is she?"

"Rebecca Tanny."

His mother was still so flustered. "I thought you went to an all-boys school."

"I do."

"Then how did you meet her?"

"She used to date the captain of the swim team. She goes to CGP. She's sixteen; she's a sophomore."

"Is she a good person?" Dr. West questioned.

"Yes, I believe so."

"Do you love her?"

"Dad."

"What?" The angry part was coming. "You slept with her. At least tell me that you like her."

"I do like her."

"Do you love her?" his mother asked.

He turned to her. "I don't know," he answered with grave sincerity. They both dropped it.

"I want to meet her," his father said extemporaneously.

"Right now?"

"If it's possible."

Wilson felt the urge to roll his eyes but contained himself. "I'll call her and see if she'll come over."

"She drives?"

"Yes."

"Oh boy."

x

Becca showed up a half an hour later. Wilson waited outside for her and briefed her on how it went and what she should expect when she came in. He kept rambling on and on about what not to say and she just couldn't take it anymore.

"Enough, OK? I'm a person. I know how to speak."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled and opened the front door.

His mother and father stood waiting directly inside.

"Um, wow. Hello Mrs. West, Dr. West."

"Rebecca," Dr. West said curtly.

"Please call me Becca."

Wilson pulled Becca to the right and toward the couch. "Let's sit, OK?"

HHHHeHuowbrfickasmHe sat with her, and Dr. West and Mrs. West stood menacingly in front of them and behind the wooden crate they used as a coffee table. Mrs. West stood still while Dr. West paced back and forth like a detective would do when questioning a suspect.

"So…" Becca said. She wasn't afraid of adults, especially Wilson's parents. If Wilson was harmless, his parents couldn't be that bad.

"Tell us about yourself Becca. Don't be shy."

"Well, I go to California Girls Prep, I have an older sister who attends U Penn, my father's a highly respected tax attorney and my mother is one of the top real estate agents in the Southern California region." Wilson was impressed. Becca really knew how to make a good impression.

"That's all very nice, but what about just you?"

She faltered. "I-uh-I don't really know."

"How are your grades?"

"Average. To be honest, school's not really my thing. I feel it places too much of an emphasis on tests and not enough on real world experience."

"Well, you're both going to get a lot of real world experience now that you're going to have a child."

"I know," she responded meekly.

"Have you told your parents yet? Was that your plan, to tell us separately?"

She shook her head. "My parents aren't home."

"Where are they?"

Wilson braced for their response and Becca cringed before answering. "I don't really know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

She sighed. "I'll be honest with you. They're not the best parents in the world. They're never home and I don't know where they go. I'm alone."

"I see." He cleared his throat. "Do you have any idea at all when you'll see them again? Can you contact them?"

"My mom has a cell phone and my dad has a car phone. I could call them on that and ask them to come home if you want."

"It's not up to me. It's up to you. But, that is what I would advise."

Wilson turned to Becca "Use our phone. Do it from here."

She looked apprehensive, but Wilson begged her with his eyes. "OK, fine."

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Psyched to meet Becca's father? He's a trip. Review.

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	11. Chapter 11

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Two afternoons later, a loud knock came on Wilson's front door. Practice had changed to a Monday, Wednesday, Friday, schedule, so Wilson was home to answer it. A disgruntled middle-aged man was at the door.

"Wilson? Wilson West?"

"Yes?"

He pushed past Wilson, through the door, and into the house. "I'm John Tanny, Rebecca Tanny's father."

"O-OK."

"Did you get my daughter pregnant!"

"Maybe."

"What do you mean 'maybe'?"

"I mean yes."

"How in the hell did that happen!"

Martha West came into the living room. "What's going on?"

Wilson turned to his mother. "This is Becca's dad."

"Oh," his mother said knowingly and left the room. She wanted no part of that.

"You didn't answer my question!" His voice boomed through the house.

"Well, um, your daughter is a very beautiful girl and-"

"Don't tell me you couldn't control yourself!"

Wilson had no idea what to say. "Well, actually, she was the one who-"

"And don't possibly tell me that maybe baby girl came on to you!"

Wilson grew increasingly frustrated. "So what do you want me to say? That we slept together and it was good?" Becca's dad looked like he was going to punch him. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"And did you know my daughter has some crazy notion of wanting to keep this child?"

"Yes. We discussed it. She said she doesn't want to abort or put it up for adoption; she's not a murderer or a quitter."

John smiled faintly. "Yeah, that does sound like my daughter."

"So…" Wilson said "It's nice meeting you. Was there something specific you wanted?"

He shook his head. "No, not really. I wanted to kill you but after a lot of convincing Becca talked me out of that."

"Are you home now? Becca told me that," he was going to say that she said he was never home, but decided that wasn't such a good idea, "that you work a lot."

"I hadn't really thought of that." He furrowed his brow. "I guess I could stay home for a while. I'd have to switch some things around, but if she needs me then I'll be here. Of course she needs me, though. She went out and got herself pregnant." His last sentence seemed to have sparked an idea. "I should get going. Who knows what she does when I'm not around, right?"

Wilson stood and showed him to the door. "I'm sure Becca's fine. She did a pretty good job of taking care of herself."

x

School let out two weeks later and Wilson walked out the double doors and to the parking lot. He was going to find his bus, when Becca put her arm out and spun him around. Wilson just looked at her and smiled. God was she beautiful.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to pick you up."

They started to walk to her car. "And what do you want from me?"

"What makes you think I want something?"

"The look on your face."

"I just didn't want to go home; that's all."

"And why is that?"

"Because my dad's working form home and my mom vowed to only take clients close to home so they could sit there and stare at me. They won't leave me alone and it's driving me nuts." Wilson nodded. "And you'd think it was a nice thing, them wanting to be home with me. But it's just their way of saying that I screwed up and now they can yell at me."

"They're yelling at you?" He opened the door and sat in the passenger's side.

"Yup." She started up the car and backed out, careful not to hit any uniform-clad school boys on her way out. "It annoys the hell out of me. They haven't been around for years and now they think the have the right to have some sort of say in my life. They don't know me at all."

"What are they saying?"

"That you have no future and that I have no future. But apparently I have more of a chance at a better future since I come from money. I tried to tell them you're not poor or anything but they won't hear it. They think you're no good for me and you're just trying to mooch off their millions."

"What?" He was shocked. "I don't want any money from you. I don't want anything from you really."

She smiled. "You don't sound too convinced of that one. What do you want?"

"Nothing. Just you."

"O-oh. So you want me for my body?"

"No, that's not what I said. I want you, to be with you. Sitting and talking even, not just sex."

"But sex is included in that?"

"Of course." They had arrived at his house. Wilson opened the door and got out. Becca rolled down the window to say something to him but he beat her to it. "Thanks for the ride. I hope everything ends up OK with your parents."

She smiled at him. "Thanks for listening."

x

Geoffrey, Wilson's father, knocked on Wilson's door three nights later. If anything had come out of this, it had been a restriction on a lot of Wilson's privacy. His parents were home much more now than they were before.

Wilson got out of bed and opened the door. "Yeah?"

"There's someone here to see you." His dad pointed in the direction of the front door.

Wilson looked at the clock on his desk. "What? It's past eleven."

"That's what I said," his father grumbled.

Wilson brushed past him and went into the foyer where Becca was standing. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was leaning against the front door. As soon as he locked eyes with her, he knew that she had been crying. It didn't mater that it had been over a half an hour ago, he still knew.

He kissed her forehead and she smiled. "What's wrong?"

"I can't anymore." She sniveled. "I just can't."

"Can't what?"

"Live with them. My parents are driving me nuts and this was the last straw. I'm out."

"What did they do?"

"They won't stop fighting with me and telling me how much I screwed up. I know already."

He reached out to her cheek with an unsteady hand. "But what did they do to make you cry?"

"They said I should have an abortion and then stay the hell away from you."

"What?" Wilson didn't believe this. "Did you tell them-"

'Yes, I told them everything. They don't care. They still think you're bad for me, especially since you were what started this whole situation."

"Do they know that I'm not the only guy you've been with?"

"I have no idea. Probably not, but if they don't they're really dumb. The signs are all there. I haven't tried to hide that from them." Wilson nodded. "So can I just stay here for the night? It's either here or I sleep in my car."

Wilson turned around to go find his dad to ask him only to find that his father was a few feet behind him listening to the whole conversation. Dr. West nodded to Wilson, who in turn wrapped his arms around Becca. She sighed into his chest. Everything was becoming increasingly difficult.

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A/N: So of course Becca's dad hates Wilson. But he really gave me a lot of trouble. There is supposed to be a balance between him being smart, because he has that business side of him, but he's dumb when it comes to his daughters. I really doubt that comes across, though. But, eh. But anyway, um, if you like him he'll be making bunches of appearances.

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Increasingly difficult is right. Review.

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	12. Chapter 12

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For the next few weeks, Becca was constantly over Wilson's house. She'd spent the night occasionally and would be over every afternoon when Wilson didn't have practice. She'd sit there quietly and wouldn't be in the way. She'd use excuses like she wanted to see him or she was lonely, but Wilson knew that wasn't it. She just didn't want to be in her house. Her relationship with her parents had gone beyond the point of repair and she needed a place to escape.

Wilson went from thinking about Becca occasionally to often, and now to all the time. It was hard for him to concentrate in school or anything else because she was always on his mind. The only conclusion he ever came to was that everything was his fault and he needed to help her. He had to be the one to provide some sort of solace, because no one else cared enough to do it. And he cared plenty, more than he ever dreamed he would.

He began to contemplate marriage. A big change was in order, otherwise everything was going to crumble around her. He couldn't save her if she didn't feel that he was there for her. He needed to be the one that she came to when the going got rough. Becca was a strong willed, dependant individual. She would never be the one to ask for help. Marrying her would stand a chance at salvaging her sanity, allowing her to let her guard down, and letting them focus on the baby. None of those problems were things that were going to go away any time soon.

On the more practical side, he knew raising a baby together while they were apart would be next to impossible. Eventually, they would have to move in together. If they both weren't around all the time, it wouldn't be fair. One party would be stuck with all the work and the other would feel left out. Marriage would enable them to be together always. It would be more beneficial for the baby to grow up with a mom and a dad around, too.

Wilson wasn't stupid, though. He knew he couldn't get married at fifteen, and Becca couldn't get married at sixteen. Wilson looked up marriage laws at the local public library and found out getting a marriage license, especially if you're underage, would be a big process. Both of their parents would have to sign, they'd have to appear in front of a judge, they'd have to go for counseling regarding a multitude of issues. That took the wind out of his sails, but not completely. He would have to talk to his father first, and then to Becca. Wilson thought the idea was so perfect that he would be willing to go through the extra work and jump through all the hoops necessary to get it done. The question was, though, would anyone else?

One night, Becca didn't appear for dinner like she usually had been. He figured now was the perfect opportunity to share his wondrous idea with his mother and father.

"Where's Becca?" Dr. West asked.

Wilson shrugged. "I don't know. I guess she's busy or something." He would have stopped, but he continued. "I wish I knew where she was. I hate not knowing. I worry about her."

"That's understandable. She's carrying your child."

"Yeah, but I don't think it's just that. I don't think everything has to do with the baby."

"What are you talking about?"

"OK," he took a deep breath. "I want to marry Becca."

His father dropped his fork from his hand and onto his plate with a loud clang. "Did I hear you correctly? You want to get married?" Wilson nodded. "You're only fifteen!"

"So?"

"So! You have no idea what marriage is all about."

"Yes I do. It's about never wanting to be apart from someone. It's about going through life together and overcoming obstacles with someone else instead of being alone. It's about becoming a family."

Dr. West faltered for a second but stood his ground. "Even if you know all that, you can't possibly begin to understand what that means."

"Does anyone?" he retorted. "You get married to figure that all out, do you not? If we could have that without getting married, no one would marry."

His mother put her hand on Wilson's. "Are you serious? You really want to marry her?"

"Yes. It's the right thing to do- on my part and hers."

"Well, I can't promise you a miracle," his father started, "but I can say we'll look into it."

"I'll save you the trouble. I already did and it's not going to be easy. There's a long and involved process since we're under eighteen."

"All the more reason to say no."

"All the more reason to think of it. I saw all that and I still want to marry her. Please."

Geoffrey sighed. "Have you talked to Becca about this yet?"

"No, not yet. I wanted to see how you would react before I clouded her head with all this."

"And how did we do?"

Wilson smiled. "Not too bad."

x

Becca came by that night. She said that she needed somewhere to study. The library was closed and all of her friends were too cool to do homework, so Wilson's was the only place she could think of.

"What do you need to study?"

"French vocabulary for a test tomorrow. If I don't pass this test then I'm in danger of failing for the semester."

"That's not good."

She laughed. "No, it isn't." They walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. Becca turned and sat on her leg so that she was facing Wilson. "Want to help?"

"How can I? You know I take Spanish."

"Just give me the English word and I'll tell you the French for it."

"OK." Becca handed him the paper and he scanned the list. Fifty words were on it.

"It's words from 'at the bank', 'at the library', and 'at the jeweler'."

"OK. Um…account."

"Le compte."

"Right. Mortgage."

"L'hypothèque."

"Vault."

"La chambre fort."

"Weekly periodical."

She grumbled. "Le quotidien?"

He shook his head. "Nope, that's a _daily_ periodical. Weekly is…le-heb-dom-a-dare."

She grabbed his cheeks between the fingers of her right hand. "You're so cute."

He smiled. Wilson looked back down to the list and saw the first word under the "at the jeweler" heading. He wasn't sure if he should be doing this, but he figured it would be a nice transition into the topic. "Wedding ring."

"L'alliance."

"Speaking of wedding rings…"

She wasn't following at all. "Yes?"

"I've been thinking - just hear me out now – I've been thinking about us getting married."

"What! Why?"

That didn't go over too well. "Because we're having a baby together and I hate it when you're not with me."

"So? That doesn't mean we should get married Wilson!"

"But- but didn't you say that you can't stand living with your parents? If we get married then you're done with them. You can just stay with me and I'll take care of you."

"How? How will you take care of me? You're fifteen!"

"I don't know. But I know I can. People do it under worse conditions."

She went to yell again, but she saw the pain in his eyes. She was breaking his heart and she knew it. Instead of screaming, she took both of his hands. "Look, I know you mean well, but I just don't see how it would work out."

"Will you think about it at least?" She looked apprehensive. "Please Becca."

She smiled. "Sure, but I'm not making any promises."

He kissed her and they both felt it- that electric charge they had always felt when they kissed. As wrong as everything was, they always felt like they made sense. Somehow, they clicked. Becca pulled away hurriedly. She didn't like how he had so much power over her.

"I have to go." Becca grabbed her vocabulary sheet from his hands and walked out the door.

Wilson leaned against the wall and let out a frustrated sigh. He felt it, he knew she felt it. What was stopping her? When he opened his eyes, his dad was standing in front of him.

"Do you love her?"

The last time his father asked this question, he was unsure and confused. Now wasn't any better. "Maybe."

Geoffrey smiled knowingly. "If you can get her to agree, and I mean really agree, then you have my blessing."

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A/N: Well, um, let's see. The French vocab came from my actual French vocab for that week. Just a nice little personal touch, I guess. Hmm, so what's going on now? Wilson half proposed. This is the thing I think I really messed up. If I had to pick one thing that sucks the most from this story, it would be this. It's just – snap! marriage. I could blame that on the NaNo rush, but that would be a lie.

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Care to guess how long it's going to take Becca to come around? Review.

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	13. Chapter 13

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Becca didn't contact Wilson for another week. The waiting was driving him batty. Every night, his father would come home form work and ask him if he had heard from her. Reluctantly, he always shook his head no. Dr. West was secretly happy about that, but didn't let on to Wilson. He didn't think his son was anywhere near ready to get married.

Wilson knew more than his father thought, however. He knew the odds were against him, but he also believed that if you really want something no one has the right to stand in your way. He wanted to marry Becca. The only real obstacle now was Becca herself. She rarely returned his phone calls, she was never home, and he barely had any contact with her.

After days upon days of her giving him the cold shoulder, Wilson decided he had to do something. His school let out a half hour later than Becca's did and was three miles away. Wilson had one of the later lunch periods, so after lunch he ditched and started walking. He didn't arrive at CGP until about twenty minutes before school got out.

Wilson scoured the student lot for Becca's car. There were so many luxury vehicles in the lot that it took him longer because he stopped a few times to admire them. He was never a huge car connoisseur, but he knew fine craftsmanship when he saw it. After all, that was why he latched on to Becca. He leaned against the door of her car when he heard the bell ring. Girls poured outside from every direction. When she came out and saw him, she was shocked and appalled. There had been a reason she was avoiding him.

"How did you get here?"

"I walked."

"You skipped, didn't you?"

He laughed. "Yeah, like half my day. Right after lunch. It took forever to walk here."

"You shouldn't have done that," she said as she opened the door to the backseat and threw her backpack inside.

"Why not?"

She sighed. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you're going to get into? You missed three classes. That's like a months worth of detention."

"It's worth it if I get to see you," he reasoned. "You're avoiding me. Did I scare you off?"

"Maybe. And-" She stopped because Wilson wasn't listening to her. He was too busy staring at all the girls who were stopping in the middle of the parking lot to stare at them. "Why aren't you listening to me?"

He blushed. "Because everyone's staring."

"Forget them. You wanted to talk to me and now I'm talking. Pay attention." She was annoyed.

"Sorry. What were you saying?"

"I was saying that there was another reason I was avoiding you." She looked up at his face. "I've been talking to Stephanie. Her break starts on Tuesday. She's going to fly back here to see me."

"I'm assuming you told her then." She nodded. "Did you call her or did she call you?"

"I called her. I needed someone to talk to and it couldn't be you. I was out of options." She stared at him. "I'm leaving now. Are you getting in or are you staying here?"

He walked around to the other side of the car and got in. Before she was able to back out, though, he put his hand on hers. "Are you feeling OK?"

"A little queasy, but fine," she answered honestly. "Why?"

"You just seem different. I wanted to know why."

"I'm sorry," she said, but she hardly sounded like she meant it. "I'm just a little stressed out right now. School, you, the pregnancy, my sister." She changed her tone. "You saying that you wanted to marry me threw me for a loop. I wasn't expecting it at all. I've thought about it, and it doesn't seem like a bad idea. I just don't know if it's the _right_ idea."

"I'm not rushing you. You have all the time you need." Inside, he was grinning. She was going to come around. This might actually happen. Sometime in the near future, he might actually marry Becca Tanny.

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Becca parked her silver Audi in the hourly parking lot of the GlenOak airport. Her sister's plane was arriving in twenty-minutes, and she didn't go to school so she could spend the day with her. She walked inside and found the gate Stephanie's flight was said to be arriving at. The people from the airline said that the plane arrived a few minutes early, and the passengers would be disembarking in a few minutes.

Stephanie hadn't been in GlenOak in three years. She left without a word to go Philadelphia for U Penn and hadn't looked back. Sometimes Becca thought about her, but the longer she had been gone, the easier it was to live without her. A lot of the time, like now, she wished Stephanie had stayed with her. Maybe if she stayed, Becca thought, I wouldn't have messed up my life so badly.

The passengers started to come out of the gate and greet each other. Some were businessmen, others were grandparents or families coming to California for a winter vacation. There were also a bunch of college students, which was to be expected. From everything Becca understood, Philadelphia and Pennsylvania as a whole was a very big college area.

Becca saw Stephanie a few people back. She had blonde hair a little past her shoulders and was wearing a U Penn sweatshirt and fashionable sweatpants. Her big sunglasses were pushed up into her hair, like the way she always wore them, and her green eyes darted around the area looking for her baby sister. When she finally found her, her face showed a multitude of emotions.

Becca waved from a few feet in the distance and Stephanie walked up to her. "Hi."

"Hi."

Becca pointed to the weekender in her sister's hand. "Is that all you brought?"

"Yup. I'm only staying for three days you know. Then my friend's coming to pick me up and he's driving me north to stay with him and some other people in his parents ski lodge for the rest of the time off. He's Jewish, so he doesn't care about Christmas."

The girls started to walk out of the airport. "Don't _you_ care?"

"I don't have anyone to celebrate with, so not really."

"You could stay Steph. Screw Mom and Dad and we could just have Christmas by ourselves."

"Look, I feel guilty enough for leaving in the first place. Don't try to sucker me into staying for the holidays. I don't want to spend my whole break evading Mom and Dad. You're lucky I came at all."

"Fine." Becca showed her sister to the parking lot and then to her car.

"This yours?" she asked regarding the car as she threw her bag in the trunk.

"Yup. I got it for my birthday."

"It's really nice Becca."

"Thanks. Now where to?"

She shrugged. "I can't check into the hotel until after noon, so we can do whatever you want." Becca didn't look too enthused. "You OK?"

"Yeah. I just have a lot going on. I've been spacing out lately. Sorry."

"You're sixteen, right? Want to go to the mall? I've got twenty bucks with your name on it."

Becca laughed and started the engine. "Sure."

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A/N: So what do you think of Stephanie? I love her. I wish I could have developed her more, had her appear more in the story. A whole story could be written about her herself. (Don't worry, I'm not planning on writing one.) She's in the next chapter more. That's when you really get to see her.

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Ah, the wonders of an original, underdeveloped character. Please review.

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	14. Chapter 14

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Wilson opened the door to the counselor's office promptly at 10:30. He was unsure as to why he had received a slip in his homeroom stating that he had an appointment at that time, but knew better than to skip out on the meeting, too. That practice only worked on his afternoon classes.

A short man, about four inches shorter than he was, was sitting at a wooden desk. He wore a light brown dress shirt with a dark brown vest over it. Wilson looked at him confused. He was summoned to the guidance office, and this man certainly was not his guidance counselor.

"Wilson West?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Have a seat please." He gestured to the chairs in front of him and Wilson sat.

"I'm sorry, but you're not my guidance counselor," Wilson started to second guess himself, "are you?"

"No, no. I'm Dr. Zapata, the school psychologist."

"I didn't make an appointment to see you."

"I know. I made one to see _you_. It came to my attention that, while you were present in school on Friday, you did not show up in your sixth, seventh, or eighth period classes." Wilson nodded. He didn't see any point in hiding it, especially since he already knew. "When someone cuts a class, it is my job to speak with them before their punishment is dealt. There's always a reason why you skip, usually a complex one that could benefit from some help."

"And?"

Dr. Zapata smiled. "And I'm the mediator between you and the dean and am in favor of lightening your sentence, as long as I see probably cause."

"I see. So you want to know why I skipped?" Wilson asked.

"In a nutshell."

Wilson sighed. "Look, you seem like a really nice guy, so I'm going to level with you. It's complicated and I'm not really up for telling someone so I'll just take the year of detention or suspension and be on my way."

"No."

"No? What do you mean 'no'? It doesn't bother me. I know what I did was wrong, and I promise I won't do it again unless it's necessary."

"Was it necessary this time?"

"Not really. Kind of."

"Can I ask you where you went?"

"CGP."

"California Girls Prep?" He nodded. "Oh, so this is about a girl."

"Among other things." Wilson looked down at his watch. "I have lunch in fifteen minutes, can I please get going?"

"I want to know what's going on. Then you can leave." Wilson didn't speak. "You know that whatever you say in here is privileged information. Unless I find that you are a danger to yourself or others, I cannot and will not share what you say to me with anyone else, not even members of the faculty here. It's strictly between me and you."

"Really?"

Dr. Zapata smiled; he knew he was breaking Wilson down. "Yes."

Wilson sighed again. He didn't know why he was doing this. "I went to go see…this girl."

"Is she your girlfriend?"

"Not exactly, no."

"Did you date her? Have you been on a date?"

"No, never. Maybe I should try that. Maybe I should ask her out on a date. Oh, but I can't. Her sister's coming into town today."

"And what would you hope to accomplish with asking her out?"

"I hope that would entice her to be a little nicer to me." Wilson bit her tongue. "Really, sir, I don't want to discuss this. It's complicated and I don't really need anyone else involved."

"Fine, but I am just here to help."

"If I give you the short version, can I leave without you asking any questions?"

"Probably. Depends on what you tell me."

Wilson was getting frustrated. "I won't leave anything out then. I met this girl in September, and she was dating this jerk of a guy. Richie Santonio, the captain of the swim team."

"I heard you were the swim prodigy. Congratulations on-"

"Yeah. Well, she gave me her number and asked me to call her, so I did, and then one day we slept together. Then again and again. And then a week or so ago she came and told me she was pregnant. Now I'm trying to get her to marry me, because that's the right thing to do and her home life isn't so great right now, but she's being very standoffish and is barely talking to me since I asked her about it. That's why I left yesterday. I walked to her school so I would be there when she got out, that way she had to talk to me. I'm sorry that I left and I knew that I shouldn't have done it, but she wasn't returning my phone calls and her father is nuts so I didn't want to show up at her house." Wilson took a deep breath and let it our slowly as the bell rang to end fourth period. "Can I go to lunch now?"

"Yes," Wilson stood, "but I want to see you back after lunch."

"Please, no. Those are the classes I missed and I'm a bit behind since I wasn't there."

"OK, but if you come back later today to make an appointment to see me for tomorrow I'll get you out of detention."

"Thanks. In that case, I'll be back."

He smiled. "That's usually the clincher."

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Becca flopped down on the king sized bed of Stephanie's hotel room. She closed her eyes and sighed. Today would have been perfect if she and Steph were still as close as they used to be. Now that there was all this literal and figurative distance between them, it was almost bittersweet. None of that really mattered, though. Becca asked Stephanie to come back to GlenOak so that she could help her. This visit was more about the baby than their relationship, or lack thereof.

"So…" Becca said while staring at the ceiling. "Are we going to just ignore the fact that I'm with child?"

Stephanie giggled. "No, I guess not."

Becca sat up. "Good, because that was the reason I asked you here to begin with, kind of."

"Wait- what do you mean kind of?"

"Well," she looked down at her hands, "because I'm pregnant, Wilson asked me to marry him. And, to be completely honest, the more I think about it, the more I realize that I can't come up with a good reason not to say yes."

"You're sixteen, that's a good reason to me. It's kind of illegal."

"Yeah, but besides that. I'm always alone and Mom and Dad bite as parents."

"But that doesn't mean you should get married."

"It's better for the baby."

"Yeah, but-"

"I just- I want your honest opinion on this. I don't know what to do."

Stephanie threw up her hands. "I don't know what to tell you. I have to think about this for a little bit."

"OK, let's change the subject then." Becca smiled, trying to put on a brave face. "What are you majoring in?"

"Global studies, and I'm minoring in French."

Becca gasped. "I forgot you took French!" She went into her purse and grabbed her keys. "My French books are in my car. You're going to help me before I fail that class and have to take it over next year."

Stephanie laughed and agreed as she watched Becca dash out of the room. After a few seconds passed by, she stood and went over to Becca's stuff. She rummaged through her purse until she found what she was looking for- Wilson's number. She had to meet this guy who wanted to marry her baby sister. Only then could she give Becca a complete and honest answer.

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A/N: Well, we still didn't get to the better Stephanie part, but we saw her a little bit more. But we did meet Dr. Zapata, modeled after my school's drug counselor and named after a kid in fifth grade who signed a contract saying he would give me Pokémon cards. …I think he moved to Florida. Anyway, that's beside the point. Dr. Zapata is going to play a decent sized part in this whole thing.

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French tutor. Score! Review.

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	15. Chapter 15

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Wilson waked the steps of Becca's house and went to knock on the door when she flung it open and came outside.

"I saw you coming from my window," she explained.

"Oh."

"Stephanie told me she talked to you before she left, and she told me I should marry you." Becca was never really one to beat around the bush. Besides that, she liked to see Wilson squirm with discomfort. "But just because she's decided doesn't mean I have."

"Fine," he said, "but if we want to do this it's going to take a really long time. We have to go to make an appointment with a clerk, go to court, and see a counselor, and then go to court again, and get our blood tested, all before we can ever get our marriage license."

"What? Why all that?"

"Because we're underage."

"I thought all we had to do was get out parents to agree."

He shook his head. "It's a whole long and drawn-out process."

"I didn't know that," she looked down at the floor, "but it really doesn't change my answer any. I can't marry you Wilson."

"What? Why not? Stephanie said-"

"She's just my sister. She's not me. Her word isn't law." She turned away from Wilson and ran back up the stairs.

Wilson reached out and grabbed her arm. She spun around and glared at him. "Can't or won't?"

"Can't."

He started pleading with her. "Why not?"

"Because!" she screamed.

"Because what?"

"Because, in case you haven't realized, you're a good person. I'm a bad person. It would never work out."

Wilson put his hands on both of Becca's arms and pulled her in closer to him. "Don't. Don't say those things."

"It's true."

"No it's not."

She frowned and her eyes teared. "You don't understand."

"Doing things that are bad or wrong does not make you a bad person. You are not a bad person Rebecca."

Becca wiped underneath her eyes. "You've never called me that before."

He half smiled. "That's your serious name. This is a serious conversation." Becca laughed and then started to cry. "What? What can I do to make this OK for you?" She didn't answer him. Wilson dropped his hold on her arms and took her left hand. He got down on one knee and kissed her knuckles. "Rebecca Tanny, will you marry me?"

She stared into his eyes. "I guess."

He squeezed her hand. "You guess?"

"I mean-" her voice turned more resolute, "yes."

Wilson stood and lifted Becca up in his arms. He kissed her and she kissed him back. Without a ring or complete parental consent, Becca and Wilson were engaged.

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"So," he said between laughter, "so you're telling me that Rebecca- gets to live with you – and she's your responsibility- and you think I'm going to be upset about that?" John Tanny laughed heartily. "That's classic." He cleared his throat. "But seriously, take her. It'll save me the trouble of dealing with her. One less woman around the house, right?" He nudged Wilson with his elbow.

"I-I guess, sir."

"Dad! I'm sitting right here!" Becca let out a frustrated sigh and turned to Wilson. "See, this is why I want to get married. I can't take him anymore, and I certainly can't, in good conscience, bring a child into this."

Wilson picked up Becca's hand. "OK, OK. Calm down."

"I can't take you either. You're on my last nerve Rebecca. You need money? Fine. My signature? Fine. Need me to show up for something? Fine. I'll do whatever you want. Just get married. Please," he begged.

No one said anything for a few seconds. "Well, OK," Wilson said and stood. He extended his hand to Becca's father and shook. "Thank you. I'll be going now."

Becca jumped up from her seat and grabbed Wilson's hand. "Take me with you."

X

Wilson plopped down onto the couch and wrapped his arm around Becca. She was sitting and watching TV on Wilson's couch, waiting for their meeting with the county counselor. They already had their meeting for their marriage license and subsequently appeared before a judge who assigned the counseling. He picked up her hand in both of his and started rubbing circles on her wrist.

"Do you want something?"

"No. Sorry. I didn't mean to touch you. It's just…you're here. I can't help it."

"It's OK." She smiled at him. "Are you nervous?"

"More like anxious," he conceded.

"Why? It'll all be fine."

Wilson kissed her temple. "I hope so."

Becca picked up Wilson's hand and looked at his watch. "OK, time to go. Let's do this, Studly."

They arrived to their appointment five minutes early to show how responsible they could be. A kind looking woman with short blonde hair and too much paperwork on her desk greeted them.

"West and, uh, Tanny, is it?"

Wilson placed his hand on the small of Becca's back and spoke. "Yes."

"Please have a seat." The pair sat. The woman found the papers she was looking for and handed one to each of the youngsters. "Please fill these out. Now, um, I'm Mrs. Meredith Forsa. I'm an accredited social worker and counselor for the state of California. As soon as you're done with those forms we'll get started, OK?" Within a few minutes, the two completed them and handed them back. "Good. We're going to discuss the social, economic, and personal responsibilities that come with marriage, OK?" They nodded. "All right. So, first off, why do you want to get married?"

Wilson spoke again. "Is honesty going to make us look bad? Because I can lie and make up some story, or I can tell you the truth."

"Is the truth that bad?"

"Not entirely, no."

"Then please give me the truth. It would be refreshing for a change. Believe me, I've heard it all."

This time, Becca reached for Wilson's hand. "Well, basically, we've known each other since the beginning of September, which doesn't sound very long, but time of the essence."

"I'm pregnant," she added.

"I see." Mrs. Forsa wasn't being overly judgmental, which relieved Wilson and Becca.

"And, my parents kind of left me to raise myself, for the past few years especially. My father was actually relieved when we asked him if we could marry. He was happy to get rid of me."

Mrs. Forsa nodded.

"But besides that stuff," Wilson continued, "I really care for Becca. I want to be the one who looks after her, and I want to be there for her and the baby. It's the responsible thing to do. The baby will be better off if we live together, and that won't happen unless we get married."

"What about money?"

"My father agreed to an allowance," Becca said. "Forty-five hundred dollars a month."

"And when I turn sixteen," Wilson interjected, "I'm going to become a lifeguard. They get paid well above minimum wage and there is always work for them."

"That's good, because Rebecca's father might decide to pull the plug. Legally, he'll have no obligation to her and neither will your parents Wilson. You'll be emancipated once you get married."

"We know," he answered, "but my parents aren't going to turn their backs on us. They'll be here."

"OK. What about school?"

"We're both staying in school."

"College?"

"As of now, we want to go, but we both agreed that we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"But you've both still got a long ways to go in high school. What are you going to do when that hot new girl or guy comes along and the convenience of your spouse doesn't look so appealing anymore?"

"That won't happen," Becca answered quickly. "We'll have a baby. It will be different. I'm in this until death."

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	16. Chapter 16

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Wilson knocked on Dr. Zapata's door and entered. He took the seat he had taken the last four times he had gone in to see him and grinned tiredly at his elder. He had to admit that he almost enjoyed talking with Dr. Zapata once a week or so, but he was emotionally exhausted after everything that has been going on.

"How are things going? I can see you're tired."

"So far, so good, but I'm drained. Dealing with school and Becca and swim practice for nationals is far from easy."

"Well, you had to assume there would be some challenges ahead of you."

"Yes, but now they're starting and I'm tired."

Dr. Zapata chuckled. "Just wait until that baby comes."

"That's what my Dad keeps telling me."

"How are things with your father? Still fine?" Wilson nodded. "And Becca?" Again he nodded. "So how's the marriage process coming along?"

"Ah, well we go back to court on Friday and then the judge will tell us if the counselor thought we have to go back for a second evaluation or if we can just get our license now."

"Well, I wish you the best of luck."

"Thank you."

Dr. Zapata leaned forward and onto his elbows. "What are you going to do if they won't allow you to get married?"

"Becca's going to move in anyway. And then once the baby is here and we get a little more settled, we'll try it again. Once the baby is born, people will be more sympathetic to our case- especially if we stay together."

"Do you think you'll stay together?"

"I wouldn't be trying to marry her if I didn't."

He smiled. "So what if you do get your license? Got a big day in mind?"

"Everyone's sort of unofficially agreed to Saturday, maybe even Friday night."

Dr. Zapata raised his eyebrows. "That soon, eh?"

"Yeah. Time isn't exactly on our side. She's already four months pregnant." Wilson's face softened. "She's starting to show a little- just a little. She hates it but I love it. This child wasn't exactly welcome, but I've become very attached. I feel like such a girl, but I'm excited."

He chuckled. "Well good for you. I'm proud of you. Not many men in your position take this type of situation as well as you are."

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Becca showed up at Wilson's house on Friday a little before noon dressed in another one of her dressy outfits. She walked right in like she owned the place, which she practically did in an emotional sense, and sought out Wilson. She found him in his bedroom fixing his tie. She grinned slyly as she walked over and kissed him, tongue and all. Wilson pulled away and smiled a 'hello'.

"How are you feeling?"

"OK. I only threw up twice before I came."

"That's a good thing?"

"It's better than three. Besides, I feel better now that I did it."

"Whatever you say."

His arms went around her waist and pulled her in closer to him. She stared into his eyes as her hands stroked his chest through his dress shirt.

"It's been a while," she said huskily.

"Yes, like two and a half months." He laughed.

"That's the longest I've gone without sex in over a year," Becca replied truthfully.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'm not a huge fan of self-control."

"You've been good so far."

She kissed him. "That's only because you're a tease."

"I'm a tease?" He feigned shock. "You're the one who comes in here, rubs up against me, and then doesn't put out."

Becca inched her face closer to his, keeping the hold she had on his eyes. "You want me?" she whispered.

Wilson closed his eyes quickly, breaking her trance and desperately grasping for his modesty. He leaned his head forward and his lips fell onto her forehead. "And you say I'm a tease?" he struggled to say with composure.

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Becca and Wilson approached the bench together in family court. The judge looked at them, read over their papers, and then looked at them again. He was a middle-aged man with dark brown hair and thick eyebrows. The judiciary robe seemed to fit nicely.

"I'm torn on this one," he finally admitted. "You're both very young." Neither Becca nor Wilson spoke, although they were tempted to. "How far along are you Miss Tanny?"

Wilson's heart sank upon hearing this. He assumed that the judge was going to hear she was only four months along and then have them come back, since she still had a long ways to go.

"Four months."

"Are you under a doctor's care?"

"Yes."

"Are your parents here?"

"My father is," she said with a bit of reservation. She really wasn't anxious to have her father speak on her behalf.

John Tanny stood up. "I'm here."

"Mr. Tanny, do you think your daughter is ready for marriage?"

"Yes. Rebecca's always been mature for her age, has been since she was very little. She also can handle anything thrown at her. She'll work at her marriage until it's as close to perfect as the two of them can make it. I have high hopes."

The judge sighed. "The counselor seemed to like you, too." He reached for his stamp and loudly stamped a green piece of paper. "Approved."

Becca squealed and hugged Wilson tightly. She was so happy this had worked. Being without him was killing her. Now they could be together all the time and not have to worry about when they would see each other next. This was going to be perfect.

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A/N: Ah, short chapter. Sorry guys! Um, so what else was I going to say? Oh yeah. The swimming details aren't accurate apparently. So sorry about that. I tried my best, I really did, but I think it was the little things that I added that really screwed it up. But whatever. It's not really a story about swimming. That was just my catalyst.

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Time for a wedding! Review

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	17. Chapter 17

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Wilson knocked on Dr. Zapata's door and entered. He took the seat he had taken the last four times he had gone in to see him and grinned tiredly at his elder. He had to admit that he almost enjoyed talking with Dr. Zapata once a week or so, but he was emotionally exhausted after everything that has been going on.

"How are things going? I can see you're tired."

"So far, so good, but I'm drained. Dealing with school and Becca and swim practice for nationals is far from easy."

"Well, you had to assume there would be some challenges ahead of you."

"Yes, but now they're starting and I'm tired."

Dr. Zapata chuckled. "Just wait until that baby comes."

"That's what my Dad keeps telling me."

"How are things with your father? Still fine?" Wilson nodded. "And Becca?" Again he nodded. "So how's the marriage process coming along?"

"Ah, well we go back to court on Friday and then the judge will tell us if the counselor thought we have to go back for a second evaluation or if we can just get our license now."

"Well, I wish you the best of luck."

"Thank you."

Dr. Zapata leaned forward and onto his elbows. "What are you going to do if they won't allow you to get married?"

"Becca's going to move in anyway. And then once the baby is here and we get a little more settled, we'll try it again. Once the baby is born, people will be more sympathetic to our case- especially if we stay together."

"Do you think you'll stay together?"

"I wouldn't be trying to marry her if I didn't."

He smiled. "So what if you do get your license? Got a big day in mind?"

"Everyone's sort of unofficially agreed to Saturday, maybe even Friday night."

Dr. Zapata raised his eyebrows. "That soon, eh?"

"Yeah. Time isn't exactly on our side. She's already four months pregnant." Wilson's face softened. "She's starting to show a little- just a little. She hates it but I love it. This child wasn't exactly welcome, but I've become very attached. I feel like such a girl, but I'm excited."

He chuckled. "Well good for you. I'm proud of you. Not many men in your position take this type of situation as well as you are."

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Becca showed up at Wilson's house on Friday a little before noon dressed in another one of her dressy outfits. She walked right in like she owned the place, which she practically did in an emotional sense, and sought out Wilson. She found him in his bedroom fixing his tie. She grinned slyly as she walked over and kissed him, tongue and all. Wilson pulled away and smiled a 'hello'.

"How are you feeling?"

"OK. I only threw up twice before I came."

"That's a good thing?"

"It's better than three. Besides, I feel better now that I did it."

"Whatever you say."

His arms went around her waist and pulled her in closer to him. She stared into his eyes as her hands stroked his chest through his dress shirt.

"It's been a while," she said huskily.

"Yes, like two and a half months." He laughed.

"That's the longest I've gone without sex in over a year," Becca replied truthfully.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'm not a huge fan of self-control."

"You've been good so far."

She kissed him. "That's only because you're a tease."

"I'm a tease?" He feigned shock. "You're the one who comes in here, rubs up against me, and then doesn't put out."

Becca inched her face closer to his, keeping the hold she had on his eyes. "You want me?" she whispered.

Wilson closed his eyes quickly, breaking her trance and desperately grasping for his modesty. He leaned his head forward and his lips fell onto her forehead. "And you say I'm a tease?" he struggled to say with composure.

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Becca and Wilson approached the bench together in family court. The judge looked at them, read over their papers, and then looked at them again. He was a middle-aged man with dark brown hair and thick eyebrows. The judiciary robe seemed to fit nicely.

"I'm torn on this one," he finally admitted. "You're both very young." Neither Becca nor Wilson spoke, although they were tempted to. "How far along are you Miss Tanny?"

Wilson's heart sank upon hearing this. He assumed that the judge was going to hear she was only four months along and then have them come back, since she still had a long ways to go.

"Four months."

"Are you under a doctor's care?"

"Yes."

"Are your parents here?"

"My father is," she said with a bit of reservation. She really wasn't anxious to have her father speak on her behalf.

John Tanny stood up. "I'm here."

"Mr. Tanny, do you think your daughter is ready for marriage?"

"Yes. Rebecca's always been mature for her age, has been since she was very little. She also can handle anything thrown at her. She'll work at her marriage until it's as close to perfect as the two of them can make it. I have high hopes."

The judge sighed. "The counselor seemed to like you, too." He reached for his stamp and loudly stamped a green piece of paper. "Approved."

Becca squealed and hugged Wilson tightly. She was so happy this had worked. Being without him was killing her. Now they could be together all the time and not have to worry about when they would see each other next. This was going to be perfect.

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A/N: Ah, short chapter. Sorry guys! Um, so what else was I going to say? Oh yeah. The swimming details aren't accurate apparently. So sorry about that. I tried my best, I really did, but I think it was the little things that I added that really screwed it up. But whatever. It's not really a story about swimming. That was just my catalyst.

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Time for a wedding! Review

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	18. Chapter 18

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Wilson and Becca told Wilson's parents that they would be home in a little while. They sat in Becca's car in the parking lot of the courthouse and made out for a half an hour with sheer glee. Becca only made a pass at Wilson once, much to his dismay and delight. He couldn't wait until he married her and they could officially consummate their union. Again and again and again until they went numb with ecstasy.

"So," Wilson finally said, his breathing labored, "tonight or tomorrow?"

"Tonight. I can't wait any longer; I don't want to have to wait."

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Wilson and Becca sat down at the kitchen table with his parents Wilson's father had already suggested that they could get married that night, but now was the time to persuade them to do it as soon as possible. Wilson had planned out an entire approach to this, but Becca ignored all that.

"We want to get married now," she blurted out.

Dr. West laughed. "Right now?"

Becca blushed. "If we can."

"I think you're rushing things, but you've made it apparent already that you don't care about that, so why not?"

"Really?" Wilson said.

"We can't really stop you now," Wilson's mother interjected. "You've got the license."

Becca grabbed Wilson's hand. "Let's go."

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Wilson and Becca, driven by Becca's parents, went to a justice of the peace a few towns away. Becca paid for the marriage, which concluded after only five minutes. Wilson found that to be ironic, since the process of getting the license took five weeks and was completed in a fraction of the time.

"Do you, Rebecca Tanny, take Wilson West to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to honor and cherish him for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"Do you, Wilson West, take Rebecca Tanny as your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to honor and cherish her for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"By the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You make kiss the bride."

Wilson leaned in and kissed Becca's lips gently. He cradled her head as she pulled away and stared into her eyes longingly. "I love you," he whispered. It was the first time he had said that to her. He knew that he loved her since the first time his father asked him, but he was waiting for a really special moment to tell Becca. It didn't get much more special than their wedding day.

A grin grew on her face. She had been waiting for him to say it. "I love you, too." She grabbed Wilson's face again and kissed him hungrily. She'd gone so long and her hormones were coming in strong. She needed so badly to feel him. Wilson pulled back when he couldn't breathe anymore and blushed. "Home - now - please"

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Once they arrived back home, Becca literally dragged Wilson into his bedroom. She kissed him and tugged at his shirt. Her hands went underneath, rubbing over his toned stomach. A few minutes later, she broke the kiss and pulled it over his head. Wilson looked at Becca and fell in love all over again. He kissed her cheek and then decided he wanted to kiss every inch of her, kiss away any pain and frustration she might have had on his account and replace it with pleasure.

He nibbled on her ear until they walked back and found the bed. Becca laid back and pulled Wilson down with her. He took off her shirt and bra and then went to her neck, collarbone, chest. Becca moaned against him.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."  
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A/N: Phsst. Short short short. I'll upload the next chapter right after I do this one.

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Review this one. Or next. Or both if you really love me.

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	19. Chapter 19

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A few nights later, Wilson hung up the phone in his kitchen after talking to one of his friends from the swim team. He thought for a moment, and then turned to Becca.

"There's a party tonight. Want to go?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, why not?"

"OK."

"But..."

He knew she was up to something. "Yes?"

"Are we telling people we're married?"

"I don't know-" he seemed leery.

"I don't want to. It's going to create a big stir." Her face lit up with the hint of an idea. "Let's make it like a game; see how long we can go."

He liked the idea, but she was so resolute that there was no room to argue with her anyway. He laughed and kissed her cheek. "OK. Sounds good to me."

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Becca pulled up near the party, leaned over and kissed him, and got out. She went to run off into the house before Wilson stopped her.

"Wait," he said before she left and he didn't see her for hours. "No boys," he reminded her.

She pointed her finger at him. "No girls."

Becca giggled and ran inside before him. Wilson walked in slowly. He conversed with his friends from school for an hour or so before anyone even asked him about Becca. Of course it was Tyler who had said something; he was the only one who showed any real interest in Wilson's life.

"Did you come with her?"

"And by 'her' you mean Becca?" Tyler nodded. "Yeah."

"And..."

"And what?"

"And anything else you want to share?"

"Not really."

"Come on," he pleaded. "My love life has been really crappy this year."

"Mooching off mine isn't really going to help." Wilson laughed at his own joke. "Let me find you someone."

"Somebody like Becca?"

Now Wilson was curios. "You want Becca?"

"No, no. She's yours. But someone fun like her, that'd be good."

Wilson scanned the crowd and looked around for some of the girls he had seen Becca hanging around with. He saw a petite brunette that he recognized and pointed her out to Tyler. "Do you know her?"

"Nope."

"Good, then you might have a chance. Go talk to her." Wilson pushed Tyler in the girl's direction.

Wilson watched on as Tyler walked over and introduced himself. Satisfied that he had done a good deed, Wilson looked around the place. He quickly decided there was nothing at the party- besides Becca, who was _somewhere_ - that interested him. He walked around in search of his wife until he finally saw her outside with some friends. He stood back from her and watched her as she spoke and laughed. He thought she was so beautiful. He loved her so much, more than he originally thought he did.

He walked over to her and she smiled when she saw him. The two locked hands and eyes and, without words, decided they were ready to go home.

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Wilson rolled over and kissed Becca's shoulder on Monday morning.

"Do you have any exciting plans today besides school?"

"Well, if you call my doctor's appointment exciting, then yes."

"How's that going?"

"Fine."

"Everything OK?"

She nodded. "As far as I'm told."

"You don't want me to go with you?"

"No. Besides, you still have practice for nationals."

"I'd skip it if you needed me," he answered honestly.

"That's sweet, but I'm fine." Becca rolled her eyes. Wilson hardly seemed convinced.

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Becca pulled up to the house the same time Scott pulled up to drop Wilson off from swim practice.

"What's she doing here?" Scott asked.

Wilson quickly came up with a lie. "Uh, she was coming over to hang out with me."

Scott nudged him with his elbow as Wilson stood to get out. "Use protection."

Wilson rolled his eyes and fully got out of the car. He kissed Becca hello as Scott pulled out of the driveway. Becca pulled away and hugged him tightly.

"You all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she said into his chest.

He rested his head on top of hers. "Then why are you acting so weird?"

"Because I didn't see you all day and I missed you."

"Really?" He found that hard to believe. Becca was so independent.

"Yeah, kind of. I don't need you or anything, but it's nice to have you around."

He laughed; she was back. "I see."

They went inside and shared a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Becca hopped up onto the counter and sat. She took a big bite and smiled at him. The house was empty and, according to the note left by Wilson's mother on the fridge, no one would be home for another two hours.

She batted her eyes. "So what are we to do all by ourselves in this big ol' house?"

Wilson fought to contain his laughter. "What, are you trying to do that 'southern belle' thing?"

"Does that do it for you?"

"Oh yeah."

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A week later, after Becca's next appointment, she came home depressed. Wilson didn't understand what was wrong and Becca wasn't talking. She'd usually love to complain to him, but not now. She didn't even say anything at all to him until they went to bed that night.

"OK," he finally said to her back. She was lying on her side, facing the opposite wall and away from Wilson. "What's wrong?" She didn't answer. "School?" She shook her head. "Me? Did I do something?" She shook her head again. He thought for a while. "The baby?" No response. "You had a doctor's appointment today, didn't you? What's wrong?"

She finally rolled over. "Can't I just want to go to sleep and not talk?"

"No." He sighed. "You're acting different and you're worrying me."

"There's nothing to be worried about. I'm fine, the baby's fine."

He wasn't buying it. "So why the silent treatment all night and all afternoon?"

"I had a bad day in school." She seemed to be telling the truth, so Wilson let her continue. "My grades suck, and I actually did my essay for English and it was kind of off-topic and I didn't even realize it, and the usual people hate me because they're dorks and I'm being me. It was just a lot to deal with."

"Is there anything I can do?" He believed her, but not fully.

"Not unless you want to go beat up a group of juniors and my English teacher Mrs. Preston."

"I think I'll pass."

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The next Monday, Becca had another doctor's appointment. She came home in the same bad mood, so Wilson concluded that either something was wrong medically, or she just had a bad case of the Mondays. While his mother cooked dinner, he cornered her. Hopefully he'd be able to get whatever it was out of her. Wilson went over to Becca and took her hand, pulling her into the bedroom. He closed the door and put his hands on the sides of her arms.

Becca smiled coquettishly. "Do you want to fool around?"

"No. I want to know what's wrong. Something's wrong, more than just school." She looked away from him. Wilson moved his hands to her cheeks and turned her head to face him. "I'm your husband. You have to tell me." He was desperate.

"No I don't. It doesn't work that way."

"Well it should." He paused and sighed. "I'm sorry. I was rude. I just want to know what's wrong. Something's not right and, even if I can't do anything about it, I'll be here for you. But I can't do anything if you won't tell me what it is."

"I didn't want to worry you, or involve you at all frankly, but if you're putting a gun to my head then I guess I'll spill. My blood pressure spiked last week when I went for my check-up. That's why I had to go back this week. It seems like I have preeclampsia."

"What's that?" Wilson had never heard of that in his life.

"It's a high blood pressure that can affect the placenta stuff and be bad for me and the baby."

He sat on the bed. "You knew about this last week when I asked you what was wrong? You knew that happened and you said you were fine? You lied to my face?" He wasn't mad so much as he was disappointed. He could never imagine lying to Becca like that.

"Sort of. I knew my blood pressure was high but I didn't know that I most likely have preeclampsia." She sat down next to him, her hands under her legs.

"Why didn't you just tell me the truth?"

"I was afraid you'd go ballistic and worry."

"I would have been fine." He looked up at her, and she could visibly see how upset he was. "Don't do that again. Lying isn't what you should be doing."

"I know. I'm sorry."

He looked back down at his hands. "When will you know for sure?"

"I'm going back tomorrow. They'll have my test results and they want to check my blood-pressure again."

"And then what?"

"And then we go from there."

"Yeah, and?"

She was getting a little annoyed now. "I'm not a doctor. I don't know."

Wilson shook his head at her. He was sad that she was sick, most likely, scared for her and the baby, but, most of all, scared that she had so blatantly lied to his face. They'd only been married a few weeks and she was already keeping stuff from him. It made him question everything she had ever said. Everything that was straight now seemed slightly skewed. Wilson got up and walked out, closing the door behind him. He didn't talk to her for the rest of night or the next morning.

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The next afternoon, Wilson still wasn't talking to Becca. After a while, she gave up on trying to get him to talk to her. She left for her appointment in silence. When she came home from her doctor's appointment, however, it was a completely different story.

Becca quietly closed the door behind her. She took a deep breath and looked around the house. She couldn't see Wilson anywhere, and after taking a quick peek into the kitchen, concluded he was in their bedroom. The door was shut, so she knocked before she entered. He looked up when Becca walked in and saw the pain on her face.

"So?"

"I have preeclampsia."

"OK," he said, his tone morose. "What happens now?"

"Now I'm on some medication and I have to go back Monday to have them check my blood pressure again." He nodded and went to leave the room. Just as he got one foot out Becca spoke again. "Wait."

He turned around. "What?"

"Can I call a truce or something? I need you now. Please Wilson."

He hugged her tightly and he could feel almost her full weight leaning against him. "I don't like you lying to me."

"I didn't lie for lying's sake. I was trying to protect you for a little bit. I didn't want to say anything until I was sure."

"That's no excuse, but I'm not going to hold it against you. I understand." He kissed the top of her head.

"Thanks."

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A/N: Ah, and this one was to long. Oh well.

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Please submit a review.

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	20. Chapter 20

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"…So I said to the President, 'If you stop playing the saxophone, maybe _Americans_ can go 43_9_ days in space.' " The crowd laughed. "But seriously folks, we have a great set of guests lined up for you tonight. The lovely Julia Roberts is here." Applause was heard, and Wilson switched off the TV. Becca had been asleep on his shoulder for hours. He had stayed put because, not only was he watching TV, but he was afraid to move her. She hadn't been sleeping well for the past few days, and he wanted her to get all the sleep she could possibly get.

It was a quarter to one now, and they both had school the next day. He gently got up and propped her head with his hands. She stirred a bit but did not awaken. Wilson gingerly scooped Becca up in his arms and, careful not to fall over, carried her over the threshold and onto their bed. He slipped her into the sheets – the same sheets he had turned down hours before in hopes that she would nap – and got in on the other side. She settled right in and didn't even notice she had been moved.

"I love you sweetie," he whispered and rolled over to go to sleep.

The next morning, Wilson shut off the alarm quickly. She hadn't heard it and he dressed and got ready for school by himself. He wanted to wake her up at the last possible second needed so she could make up on some missed sleep. At 6:50, though, it was definitely time for her to get up.

He nudged her lightly. "Becks, time to get up."

She rubbed her eyes and rolled her head a bit. "What time is it?" she mumbled.

"Ten of seven. Get up."

"Oh jeez," she said. She reached for Wilson's hand, eyes still closed, and used him to support her as she stood. Wilson kissed her and she disappeared into the hallway for the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, she came out and walked back into the room. She went into the closet and pulled out her uniform dress shirt and plaid skirt, followed by her knee highs and underwear from the drawer. She started to dress when she noticed Wilson was staring.

"Aren't you going to have breakfast?"

"Nope. I want to watch you get dressed instead."

She wasn't following him. "Why?"

"Because it's sexy."

She laughed. "Perv."

She put on her schoolgirl attire, brushed her hair, and was ready to leave five minutes later. She didn't have breakfast either, but that was only because she was running late and not feeling well. Becca drove Wilson to his school and dropped him off first. Although his school started a half an hour after hers, she often reminded him that either he was there early or she'd be late every day. Two months later, he was barely grasping the concept.

Becca dropped Wilson off in the back part of the school and because it was so early, no one was around at all. Only a few students and teachers had arrived at that time. Becca looked at her watch as she pulled into the school parking lot. She had an extra two minutes to spare. Instead of dropping him off by the gym doors, Becca pulled into a parking spot.

"What are you doing? You're going to be late."

"No I'm not. I have two minutes. Now be quiet and kiss me."

They made out for three minutes and then Becca pushed him out the door, cursing her wanton ways for making her late once again. She drove a tad faster than normal, sped through a yellow light, and ran through the hallways, but she made it to her homeroom on time. Mrs. Preston, her first period English and homeroom teacher, glared at her as she rushed through the door just preceding the bell.

"You're making this a habit Miss Tanny. You know a morning tardy is worth two demerits, three if I was in a particularly bad mood."

"Yes, Ma'am, but I'm not late."

Mrs. Preston's face turned even sourer. "Not yet."

Becca talked with a few of her friends until the morning announcements came on. All was to be silent when the announcements sounded. French club, band practice, softball tryouts – Becca could have cared less. She wished that she cared, even a little, but she didn't. Since she was twelve she was more interested in boys than she was with extracurriculars.

The girl from behind tapped Becca's shoulders as soon as the announcements ended. "Did you ever go out with Donny Furslak?" The other girls always came to Becca when it came to relationship advice, even more so when it came to sex. They knew she was the expert.

"Yeah." She paused. "Isn't he in college now? USC?"

"UCLA, but yes. I spent last night with him in his dorm, and then he took me to his parent's house for breakfast this morning."

"Good for you." Becca tried to sound as warm as possible and went to turn around, only to have the girl tap her again.

"I'm not done. His younger brother is a junior at SCBA. We dropped him off this morning before Donny dropped me off here- his brother doesn't have his license yet, failed his driving test twice."

"OK."

"I saw you making out in the parking lot with some guy there." Becca's face turned white. "Who was he? He was cute."

It took her a second to come up with a calm and collected answer, but she did it. "One of my conquests. You spent the night with Donny, I spent the night with him."

The girl laughed. "You're so bad!"

Becca smiled politely and turned back around for good, only to find Mrs. Preston staring directly at her.

"Are you ready for me to start class now, Miss Tanny? I'd like to discuss Orwell's _Animal Farm_. You did read that for today, didn't you?"

Becca silently cursed herself. She knew when she got up this morning that she had forgotten to do something. She hadn't even read a single page of it. "Yes." There was no way she could give Mrs. Preston the benefit of public humiliation.

"Good. Then you won't mind if we have a pop quiz, will you?"

The whole class groaned, Becca included. She heard girls around her whispering about Cliff's Notes as Mrs. Preston started to hand the papers out. She wished she had been smart enough to think of that. Then maybe she might have a chance at passing this quiz. She took the paper from the girl in front of her and handed the extras behind her. Becca took a deep breath as she wrote her name and the date.

_1. What did the pigs say when they were asked…_

What? she thought. Since when can pigs talk? This was hopeless. Becca racked her brain to try and grab bits and pieces of what the book was about, at least what she thought it was about, and based her answers around that.

When class was over, Mrs. Preston called Becca up to her desk.

"You told me that you read the book Miss Tanny. But these answers…" she glanced down at Becca's papers. "When the pigs were asked about Sugarcandy Mountain, they certainly did not say they wanted to eat it."

"To be honest, Mrs. Preston, I didn't read any of the book. I'm sorry, and I'm sorry that I lied. I didn't want to degrade your classroom by admitting in front of the class that I did not do the work for today."

"Not only the work for today, Miss Tanny. This has been the assignment for the entire month, since Christmas actually. There is no possible excuse for having read none of it." She took out her red pen and wrote a big "F" on the top of Becca's paper. "This quiz is out of 100 points, and we are having an in-depth test on this material tomorrow, so good luck." Becca nodded and turned to leave. "And next time, Rebecca, read the book!"

Becca took a few deep breaths and walked briskly out of the classroom. She had to get to her locker before the bell rang in five minutes, probably three and a half now that Mrs. Preston held her back. Luckily, her locker was only at the end of the hallway and her second period class was not that far from it. With three tries on her lock that always liked to jam on her, Becca got it open. She pulled out the books she would need for the next two classes and slammed it, scampering down the hall just in time to make on time to her next class.

The day continued on like this until her lunch sixth period. Late start, late everything else Becca figured. Becca still wasn't that hungry by the time lunch came, so she only bought a bag of chips and water. She sat with her normal friends at the "popular" table full of anyone who was anyone in the sophomore class. The juniors sat in the table behind them, and they hated Becca. When she walked by them to get to her seat, they all quieted and stared at her.

"Getting a little fat Becca!" one of the particularly vicious and outspoken juniors yelled out.

Becca was so close to making her eat her words by saying that she was pregnant, but decided that wasn't the way to handle things. Becca just ate her lunch and made small talk with her friends about boys and annoying teachers until the bell rang. She had math and history classes next. Then she was done and could go home.

She walked into her math class with a friend and sat in her seat. She hated math, and she was so bad at it, but the teacher was a total fox so she didn't mind it. Mr. Berman was 23, just graduated from UC Davis, and had dreamy blue eyes. All the girls had major crushes on him. Little did the girls know that the school had brought him in on purpose. Geometry scores on standardized tests were way down, so they figured if the teacher was cute the girls might attempt to learn the subject.

"OK, let's get started. Yesterday we learned about cofunctions. What is the cofuntion theorem, Danielle?"

"The value of a trig function of an angle equals the value of the cofunction of the complement of the angle," she rattled off like it was nothing. Someone went home and meticulously studied the notes in hopes of impressing the teacher.

"Good. And what's the cofunction of sine, Becca?"

"Uh… cosine?"

"Correct."

Phew. Becca wasn't in the mood to be embarrassed in front of an entire class two periods in one day. That was more than a girl could take. Besides that, math always seemed so easy to everyone else. Becca felt dumb when she got the answers wrong. At least today she got asked an easy question. Hopefully, now he wouldn't call on her for the rest of the class and she could squeak by unnoticed. She had done the homework for the class, but not very well. She knew most of it was wrong, but she didn't care. Math was completely pointless to her.

History class, after Math, was uneventful. Mrs. Waverly lectured for the entire period on the constitution, since sophomore year was about early American history, and then the bell rang. She went out to her locker, got the books that she thought she might actually do the homework in, and went out to her car. The parking lot was extra full that day, so it took her an extra five minutes to get out of there. As she looked around at everyone else, she thought about where they were all going. Most likely home. She was probably one of the few who were running off to another school to pick up someone else.

Becca waited in the line of mothers expecting their sons to come out of the SCBA school building promptly at 2:30. It was a sea of vans and station wagons. The back doors opened and, one by one, the boys filed out. Wilson was among the front of the pack. He looked for Becca's car in her usually place and, finding it there, went to get in. She smiled a tired but genuine smile as he got in.

He kissed her lightly. "Hey honey."

"Hi," she said and sped off.

"How was your day?" he asked.

She shrugged. "The usual."

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A/N: This was supposed to be just an average day in the life of Becca, what she's dealing with, getting to know her better as a character in her own right and not just an extension of Wilson, that sort of thing. I kind of like it actually.

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Does Becca's day model yours? Review.

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	21. Chapter 21

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Wilson walked up to the front to his math teacher and showed his pass out of class to Dr. Zapata. His teacher nodded at him and he walked out. Wilson went down the hall and knocked on the counselor's door. Without waiting for a response, he walked right in.

"Hello Wilson." Dr. Zapata was warm and cordial.

"Hey."

"How are things going in your life?"

"Not bad. Not great, but not bad."

"Anything new?"

"Well, um, Becca and I had our first fight."

"About what?"

"She lied to me – right to my face, about something important."

"Which was…?"

"She's sick, kind of. She has preeclampsia. When I asked her a few days ago if something was wrong with her or the baby, she said no. She looked me in the eye and said that they were both fine."

"And how did that make you feel?" Wilson laughed. "What?"

"It's just that that's such a stereotypical psychologist question."

"Well, it's a good question." He asked it again. "How did that make you feel?"

"Angry. She shouldn't do that. And now I don't know if I can trust her anymore. We've only been married a few weeks and she's already keeping things from me."

"Did you tell her that?"

"I know of stopped talking to her but then I told her that, and she didn't really have anything to say."

"OK. That's a start."

"Yeah, I guess."

Dr. Zapata's tone turned more serious. "Is she OK?"

"She's on medication, but in general she's OK. Things might get better."

"Is she in any grave danger?"

"No. But then again, she could be lying to me and she could be about to explode or something and I wouldn't know."

"Would she lie about something that big?"

"She already did," he said with a laugh.

"True."

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After school that day, Wilson had swim practice. Nationals were only two months away, and it was beginning to get to "buckle down" time. The relay team probably needed the most work, but they didn't think that had a chance in placing in the top three, so no one was really bothering. Wilson's freestyle, however, had a shot. He had the fastest time in the country, but by only two seconds- if you go by the times from regional competitions.

Wilson knew that he needed to shave off about three or four seconds from his time if he wanted to clinch first place over that kid from South Carolina. That didn't sound like a lot, but to a swimmer that was years. Both the Coach and the Assistant Coach were working hard with him to accomplish that difficult goal, but with only limited success. Two months of practice and he only got two and a quarter seconds off.

Wilson swam hard in a practice run, but only got fifty-two seconds. Coach Walker and Assistant Coach Abrams rushed over to him.

"Are you focused?"

Wilson nodded. "Yes sir."

"Then I think it's a stamina issue. Finish swimming today, but from now on I want you to run three miles."

"For practice?"

"No, in addition to practice." Wilson's eyes bugged out of his head. "Oh, come on. That's nothing. You're in good shape; you should be able to do it."

If I wanted to run, I would have joined the track team, thought Wilson. "Do I have to run it all at once?"

"Yes. Stam-in-a," he sounded out the word. "You can't do that running quarter mile sprints."

That was true, but Wilson still didn't like it. "Fine."

"Unless you can swim forty-three seconds right now."

"No, that's impossible."

"Nothing's impossible. Maybe if you run you could achieve it."

"I doubt it," Wilson mumbled. He jumped out of the pool and reached for his towel flung over the railing of the bleachers. He dried off his back and then his hair, finally wrapping it around his waist. He seemed bothered.

Assistant Coach Abrams came over to him. "Are you frustrated, son?"

"Yeah. I don't think I can get my time down to forty-seven- where I need it to be. It's just too fast."

"Try the running. If that doesn't help, we'll try something else."

"Like what?' Wilson asked, eagerly looking for a way to get out of the running.

"I don't know," he laughed. "But don't worry about it. Those two and a quarter seconds will help. Now you've got four and a quarter seconds on the other guy."

"Unless he's working on his time, too."

"You're the best freestyle swimmer in the country. Don't worry about it."

"Thank you, Coach."

Wilson went back into the locker room and changed. He was taking the after school bus home. An hour later he arrived back home to his wife, to dinner, and to his homework.

Becca kissed him. "How was practice?"

"Fine, except I have to run three miles every day now to increase my stamina."

"That stinks."

"Yeah, I know." He sighed. "How are you feeling? You OK?"

"I'm fine."

"School?"

"I've got an English paper to write on a book I haven't read yet."

"What book?"

"_Animal Farm_. We took the test last week but that was multiple choice so I think I passed. But this is going to kill me. Big time."

"I thought you did OK in English."

"I do if my teacher doesn't hate me. But Mrs. Preston is a wench. She loves to watch me squirm.

"I see." He kissed her "When do your semester grades come out?"

"Beginning of next week."

"Did you change your address, or are they going to mail it back to your house?"

She shook her head. "No one knows we're married. Not the school, not anyone."

Wilson wrapped his arms around her. "I'm hungry."

She laughed. "OK."

"I'm in the mood for… mac and cheese."

She stood on her tiptoes and looked at him. "Mac and cheese with a side of me?"

"Definitely."

X

That night Becca stopped Wilson before he climbed into bed. She put her hands on his hips and spun him around to face her. He didn't say anything, he just waited for her to say her piece. He knew that, evidently, something was up.

"In the interest of not lying to you," Becca started, "I thought I should tell you that I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow. They're going to check my blood pressure and see how I'm doing, and then check on the baby." He went to open his mouth but she silenced him by putting her finger to his lips. She knew what he was going to ask. "No, I don't want you to come. Not yet anyway. I'll be just fine, and if I'm not I'll tell you first thing when I get home. OK?"

"OK." He kissed her passionately and then pulled away. "I really hope you're all right. I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

"Neither do I," she said.

Wilson kissed her again. "Good."

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What do you think of the whole preeclampsia bit? Please review.

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	22. Chapter 22

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Becca sat on the side of the examining table. She swung her legs back and forth and tugged nervously at her hospital gown. She was anxiously awaiting what her doctor was going to tell her in regards to her preeclampsia. All this waiting for making her very upset. Something was up.

The doctor looked down at Becca's chart and then back at Becca. "Your blood pressure is still climbing. Not a lot, but enough to still be concerned."

"OK, so what do we do? More meds? Different meds?"

"No. Actually, I want you off of the medication. It doesn't seem to be helping and I don't want to be medicating you unnecessarily."

"OK. Then-"

"I want you to limit your activity, your motion. You are still in school, correct?' Becca nodded. "OK. I want you to go straight to school and back, and I want you in bed the rest of the time. No moving around, no getting up, nothing until you need to get ready for school."

"What! That's torture."

"No," her doctor clarified, "it's partial bed rest. I'll give you a note to get you out of gym, from now until you deliver, and no strenuous activity. You can start resting tomorrow after school, though, so then you have tonight. Get everything set up your going to need to be in bed."

"What do you suggest?"

"Books, magazines, blankets, pillows, that sort of thing."

She sighed. "OK."

"And I want to see you back in a week again to see how that's going."

"C-can I still drive? I need to get myself and my husband to school."

"Yes, but not a lot. To and from school is fine. No more than that."

Becca nodded. "Can I sit in a chair?"

"For now, yes. This is pretty liberal. I just don't want you standing or moving around too much."

"OK. Can I be carried?"

"I guess. Just don't get dropped." Both women laughed. "So what are you doing when you get home from school tomorrow?"

"Getting into bed and not getting up until the next morning."

Becca grumbled.

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Becca thanked the receptionist for making her next appointment and got out her car keys. She turned to leave when the nice lady behind the window called her back.

"I almost forgot. The doctor wanted me to give these to you. They might shed a little more light on things."

Becca nodded mutely and took the pamphlets from the woman. She had to admit that she only had limited knowledge about preeclampsia and welcome the literature provided. At the very least, she could always tell Wilson she brought them home for him. He seemed a lot more interested in these things than she was.

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Becca walked right into the house and plopped down on the couch. She heaved a sigh and glanced around for Wilson. He must not be home from practice yet. It would probably be a while, too, since he had those three miles to run. In the confusion that was her life, Becca almost forgot about Wilson's running that he had to do now.

Mrs. West walked into the living room and looked down at Becca. "Everything all right dear?"

Becca straightened up. "Yeah, kind of."

"Is something wrong?"

She shrugged her shoulder, not really knowing what to make of it. "My blood pressure is still rising so now I've been put on partial bed rest effective tomorrow morning."

"What does that mean?"

"That means school and back, the rest of the time I'm in bed or sitting down."

Mrs. West sighed. "Oh dear that's awful."

"Maybe not totally." Becca smiled. "I can make Wilson carry me around."

"Well, he does have all those muscles from swimming. He might as well put them to good use."

Becca smiled. "My thoughts exactly."

The front door opened and Wilson hung up his jacket. He placed his backpack on the floor and went into the living room, where he could hear his mother and Becca talking. He smiled at Mrs. West Sr. and Mrs. West Jr. and took a spot on the couch next to his wife. He kissed her cheek and Becca blushed.

"That was fast," Becca said. "How was your run?"

"Torture, but if it works it'll be worth it."

"Speaking of torture…"

Wilson's mother stood up. "That's my cue to leave."

Wilson furrowed his brow. "Ooook." He turned to Becca. "What's going on?"

"My-my appointment today…"

He picked up her hand. "Yes?"

"I'm on partial bed rest now. My blood pressure is still going up, so I have to stay in bed or sit while I'm not in school. I can't get around unless you carry me."

"Um, OK."

Now Becca furrowed _her_ brow. "OK? That's all you have to say? OK?"

"Yeah. What else do you say to something like that?"

"I don't know." She stood up dramatically. "God Wilson. Show some sympathy. I'm bedridden!" Becca stormed off and went for the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Through the walls of the house, Wilson could hear her stomping around the bedroom.

After taking a second to regroup, Wilson went after her. He went to open the door, only to find that it was locked. He knocked and pleaded with her to open it, but with no such luck.

"Becca! Open the door please." Silence. "Becca!" Still nothing. "Rebecca, open the stupid door!"

Frustrated and frazzled, Wilson found a small screwdriver. He inserted that into the doorknob and was able to successfully pick the lock to their room.

"Get out!" Becca screamed. "I don't want to talk to you right now. I'm mad." She was pacing around the room not looking at him.

"Fine," Wilson said approaching her calmly, "just-" He sighed. "Can I do something, please?"

"What?" she still sounded mad, but at least she turned around.

Wilson reached out and put his hand on Becca's chest, over where her heart was. "Do you feel what I feel? I feel your heart, beating very fast because you're getting yourself all worked up. That's not good for you since you have a high blood pressure condition. People who are going on bed rest shouldn't be running around screaming." She half-smiled at him. He was adorable, but still annoying. "Now what did I do?"

"You didn't care about me."

"I care. Of course I care."

"Well you didn't act like it." Her lips formed a distinct pout.

He kissed her softly and held her cheeks with his hands. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"You're right, it won't." Becca released herself from his grasp and went over to her purse. "I got these for you." She handed him the pamphlets. "Maybe you'd want to read them."

"I'd love to." He kissed her again. "Besides all this hoopla, everything is fine?"

"I guess so." She sighed. "But this isn't just 'hoopla'. This is a big deal."

"I know." He rubbed her sides of her arms. "You're not getting scared, are you?"

She scoffed at his remark. "Of course not. Everything is fine. What's there to be scared about?"

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A/N: Oh, the bed rest was coming. That whole thing was more trouble than it was worth, let me tell you. When you take away the power for you character to do everyday things, like walk or stand up, you kind of rule a lot of things out automatically.

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Bedrest Becca to the rescue! Review.

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	23. Chapter 23

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Becca groaned when she awakened the next morning. Her freedom was officially over. Sure, she was able to get up then and get ready and go to school, but she had nothing to look forward to afterwards. She couldn't stand up anymore. How was she going to be able to function without standing? This was going to be impossible.

What Becca didn't know, however, was that Wilson was dreading this more than she was. From the second that she told him, Wilson pictured himself being Becca's slave. Of course he loved her, and he would do anything for her, but he didn't want to be turned into some pansy that carried his wife around everywhere and brought her books and the telephone. That certainly was not the type of life he envisioned when he asked Becca to marry him.

When they came home that afternoon, Becca walked in slowly from the car, savoring her last few seconds of freedom. She even purposely forgot her backpack in the car so she would have to walk a few feet back to get it. Wilson just thought she was being overly-dramatic, but either way this was going to turn into a big deal.

Just before they reached the front door, Becca turned to him. "So, so what do I do now? Do I get I bed, or do I sit on the couch, or-"

"Where do you want to sit?"

"On the couch until dinner."

"Then sit there."

"And then, then when we eat will you pick me up and bring me to the table?"

"Sure," he sighed.

They entered the house and Becca walked slowly over to the couch, bringing her schoolbooks with her. She first placed her backpack down on the cushion on the far right before gingerly sitting on the other end. She squirmed around a bit, settling into a comfortable position, and then sighed loudly as she looked up at Wilson.

"Yes?"

"Nothing. This bites."

"That it does." He bent down and kissed the top of her head. "Look, I have to go run. Will you be OK for me to leave you for, say, forty minutes?"

"I guess so." She sounded so forlorn.

"All right. I'm going to change. Do you want me to get you anything?"

"No, not at the moment. Probably when you get back, though."

Wilson nodded and went into his room. He changed into sweats and then walked past Becca to the front door.

"Wilson?" she called out just as he touched the doorknob.

"Yes?"

"Can you get me an apple?"

"Sure." He grabbed an apple off this kitchen counter and gave it to her. "Good now?"

Again she did the pathetic sigh. "Yes."

"OK." She pleaded with him with her puppy dog eyes, but Wilson just wasn't buying it. "Bye Becca."

Becca was fine until dinner came. Wilson had to carry her to her seat at the table, which was quite a feat in itself. He put one arm under her knees and the other around her back and prayed that his legs didn't go out on him after all that running he did earlier. Luckily for both, he was sturdy and sound. Wilson garnered strange looks from his father, who really didn't understand why Becca had to be carried to the table, but his mother seemed to get it.

After the meal, Wilson brought Becca her homework and they sat at the kitchen table finishing up the work that they needed to get done for the next day. After that, Wilson went and turned down the bed. He carried Becca from the kitchen into the bedroom and put her down gently. She looked up at him appreciatively and he smiled a weary smile.

"Want to go to sleep?" he asked her. "I'm tired."

"It's only 9:15."

"So?" Wilson clicked off the lights and climbed into bed with her. "Good night." He kissed her neck. Five minutes later, he tapped Becca on the shoulder.

"Yes?"

"This means no sex, doesn't it?"

She rolled over and stared at him, her eyes bugging out of her head. "I hadn't even thought of that!" She hit her forehead. "How-how are we going to survive?"

He didn't seem too thrilled either. "I don't know."

A few minutes of silence passed before Becca spoke again. "You sure? I mean, she just said no strenuous activity?"

"Believe me, that's strenuous."

She giggled.

X

Sunday night, after the couple had gotten into bed, Becca and Wilson stayed up talking. They were discussing anything and everything, until Becca steered the conversation in a very purposeful direction.

"So, I was thinking…"

"Yes?"

"I want you to come with me to my doctor's appointment tomorrow."

"OK." He didn't say anything more.

"OK? But you have practice tomorrow."

"I told you that if you needed me I'd skip it. I'll just tell the coach I have a family thing and that I'll run six miles instead of three and I can go with you."

"You can't run six miles."

He smiled. "I know. I'll just tell him that so he won't be too upset with me."

She laughed. "But I thought you were an anti-lying crusader?"

"Everyone needs to fib sometimes, when there is just cause. Don't you think?"

She shrugged. "I guess so. I used to lie all the time. To my friends, to my parents especially. I don't know how anyone ever trusted me. I _always_ said one thing and did another. But now, not so much."

"Why not?"

She interlocked her fingers with his. "Because I want you to know where I am and what I'm doing. You're important to me. None of those people that I lied to all the time really mattered all that much."

X

Wilson sat in the office with Becca, his hands shaking. Wilson was so nervous that something terrible was going to happen to her- that the doctor was going to give them bad news. They really didn't need any more confusion in their lives, and nothing was really going right.

Dr. Van Zandt walked into the room and sat in front of the desk before Becca and Wilson. "Ah, the husband. Come out of concern for your wife?"

"Something like that, yes."

"Well, let me break down her condition for you. Preeclampsia is kind of rare; it affects only about five to eight percent of all pregnancies. Teenagers are at risk for it, and so are women pregnant with their first child, of which Becca is both. It is a rapidly progressive condition characterized by high blood pressure and the presence of protein in the urine. There can be symptoms but, as is the case with your wife, many women exhibit no real symptoms at all." He nodded. "The causes of it is unknown, however it could be a result of elements of the fetus that trigger an immune response in the mother."

"OK."

"Now, a person with mild preeclampsia may feel perfectly well. That's why it is important for Becca to attend all her prenatal checkups. The symptoms of severe preeclampsia, which Becca does not have yet, can develop during the last weeks of pregnancy. She can get headaches, blurred vision, sensitivity to bright light, nausea and vomiting, and retain water. It may progress to eclampsia, which is a whole different and admittedly more severe condition. The symptoms of that are seizures and, sometimes, unconsciousness. Not to scare you, but you should be aware of that."

"O-OK."

"As for treatment, we've got Becca on her loose bed rest, as I'm sure you are well aware, and I've put her on magnesium sulfate supplements. Usually, though, we have to do constant blood pressure and fetal monitoring, but she's not there yet. It's very mild so far, but it could progress. We have to continue to keep a close watch on her and the baby. Any questions?"

"Is this condition harmful to the child?"

"Preeclampsia affects the placenta, which is the roadwork for oxygen getting to the baby. It can affect development and the like, but currently the baby is fine. It is the proper weight and size and all seems well."

"Will she completely recover after the baby is born?"

"Yes. Within two weeks she should be back to her normal self."

Becca interjected before Wilson could ask another question. "What about sex?" Wilson shot her a look, but Becca didn't pay any mind to it. This had been the question on her mind all week, the question she really should have asked a while ago.

Dr. Van Zandt laughed. "Well, light activity is OK. That's why you're still in school. Moderate to demanding activity isn't."

"Please. Please don't tell us no. I can't go four months without sex." The doctor went to say something, but Becca cut her off. "Please."

Wilson turned to Becca before she could make herself look any more idiotic and immature. "Becca." He shook his head to tell her to stop.

"I'm sorry, but I just think it would be too risky. No sex until I tell you otherwise."

X

Wilson stroked his hand over Becca's right leg. She could tell he was jittery, probably from nerves, but she had no clue what he could be nervous about. The whole way there he was like this, and now it had gotten even worse. Becca didn't know what to do.

She put her hand on top of his. "Are you OK?"

"No."

"No?" She was surprised. Wilson usually had it together. "Why not?"

"This whole thing sounds really serious. A lot more serious than you made it out to be."

She quickly got defensive. "Are you accusing me of lying again? Because I told you-"

"That's not what I meant. I just meant that I'm worried about you."

"Why?" she questioned. "Because this is turning into a big deal? I'm not any worse off than I was when I woke up this morning. Just calm down." She squeezed his hand. "It will all be OK. I have faith in my doctor and myself."

Wilson reached out and kissed her. "I have faith in you, too."

"Good. Can we go home now? I have a lifetime worth of sitting to do."

He squeezed her hand and then let go of it. "Fine, drive."

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A/N: Um, all of this information came offline, so if anything is wrong I'll take responsibility, but I'm just repeating what I found. This whole chapter bites, though. I hated it when I wrote it, I still hate it now.

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Wilson is such a worry-wart. Review.

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	24. Chapter 24

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Becca turned left at the stoplight and continued down the road after she picked Wilson up from school. Wilson didn't even realize she was going the wrong way until five streets over.

"Um, where are we? Or, better yet, where are we going?"

"Report cards came out yesterday. I'm going home to get mine and then we're going home, OK?"

"Oh. Do you know what you got in your classes?"

She shook her head. "They refuse to tell us." She paused. "Do they tell you guys?"

"Some teachers do, others don't. It's all a matter of personal preference."

"I see. When does your report card come out?"

"Uh…" He thought for a second. "Today I think. I'm not sure though. We'll see."

Becca pulled up into her driveway. There were no cars there, and no cars in the garage, so she safely assumed no one was home. Apparently, they went back to working twenty four hours a day as soon as she moved out. Becca took her key to the house out of her purse and went inside. She walked over to the table in the foyer and sitting on top was her report card- unopened.

"How nice of them to care enough to look," she said to herself as she picked it up and left the house. She got back into the car and tossed the envelope to Wilson. "You open it. I don't want to know."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. But I'm just warning you, it's going to be bad."

Wilson opened it and scanned her grades. Becca wanted to sneak a peek at his face, but didn't want to take her eyes off the road on a rainy day. A few moments later, the tone in his voice let her know just how bad it was.

"Should- should I read it to you?"

"Sure, why not?"

"OK. English: C-, Geometry: B-, Biology: C, Gym: C-, French: D, History: B, Sewing: B."

"Eesh." She made a face of disgust.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Is this what you usually get, or is this worse?"

"A little worse, but in the general range."

They pulled into his driveway and got out of the car. Becca went and sat down on the couch, where she would be confined for the next few hours. Wilson sat next to her.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are these your grades?"

"What do you mean 'why?'" She wasn't following. "I'm a terrible student."

"But you're really smart, just as smart as anyone I know. You could do better than this."

"No I can't." She sighed. "You don't get it. I told you before we got married. I'm a bad person. Bad people do badly in school. That's how life works."

"You are not a bad person Becca."

"Fine, then it was because of everything that has happened. I've been distracted."

Wilson could not have been more frustrated with her attitude. He got up and walked away from her, out of the house, and out to the mailbox down at the end of his driveway. He pulled out the mail that came today and jogged back into the house so as to not get wet. Wilson set down everything on the kitchen table that he did not need and went back to the living room with the one thing he was looking for. He tore it open and pulled out the contents.

"Algebra I: A, English: B, General Chemistry: B, Photography: A, Gym: A, History: B, Spanish: B-."

She stared at him incredulously. "What are you doing, trying to rub it in?"

"No. I had a lot going on, just as much as you, give or take a little. I still made good grades. You could have done it if you worked at it. You have the mental capacity."

"I disagree with you there."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Why do you ask so many questions?" she countered.

"Never mind," he mumbled and walked away. "I'm going for my run."

"It's raining out."

"So what? I need to clear my head."

X

Dr. Zapata was just finishing typing something up when Wilson walked into his office. Once he finished the paragraph he was working on, he stopped and turned to face the fifteen year old boy.

"Wilson, I've been meaning to congratulate you."

"On?"

"On your grades. You did quite well, especially considering that you had a lot on your plate this term."

"So you agree with me then? Good. I knew I wasn't wrong."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh," Wilson smiled, "sorry. Becca got her grades yesterday and she did horribly. I mean, she passed everything, but with one D, three C's, and three B's."

"Well, some people take school less seriously than others."

"I agree with you, but that wasn't what she said. She told me that she was a bad person, and that was the grades that bad people get, which made no sense at all, and I told her that. So then she said she was too distracted. I told her my grades and said that if I could do it, she could have at least done better."

Dr. Zapata chuckled. "Oh. So you think she was foolish in blowing off school?"

"Sort of. I mean, I truly think she could have done a lot better. She's really smart. If she applied herself, even if it was just in one class, she could have brought her grade up."

"Street smarts doesn't always equate to book smarts."

"I know that." Wilson sighed. "It's just frustrating to see her waste her brain away."

"I'm sure she's not wasting it away, just using it differently."

"I guess."

Dr. Zapata tried to approach the topic from a different angle. "Why do you want Becca to do better in school?"

Wilson thought for a second. "Because I think she is wonderful, and I want other people to be able to see that. Her grades don't reflect how amazing she is."

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Wilson started spacing out in his history class. While Mr. Madigan droned on and on about the civil war and how it was not really fought over slavery, all Wilson could do was contemplate Becca. She was a strange creature to say the least, and Wilson was just beginning to scratch the surface of the inner workings of Becca Tanny. Since they had gotten married, his life had been one giant roller coaster. He needed some time to reflect.

He couldn't get off of the fact that she thought she was a bad person since she had said it to him yesterday. What did she mean by that? What exactly was a bad person? Someone who didn't do the right thing, who didn't do what they were supposed to, who was mean and cruel. Becca was none of those things. The only thing she was guilty of was loving life a little too much, and taking herself a little less than serious. If she had never said to him that she thought that she herself was a bad person, then he never would have even thought that about her. It would have never entered his mind in fifty thousand years.

Where could that thought have come from? Did someone tell her that she was a bad person, or was that one of her own manifestations? He had so many questions that he could never ask her for fear of starting a fight bigger than all the ones they had had already rolled into one. Becca was a little volatile the past few days. The only thing that made any sense to him was that it was a self-esteem issue- it had to be. Becca obviously didn't think very highly of herself if she was constantly putting herself down. Then Wilson started to ponder self-esteem. Was it something that others imposed on you, or was it completely self-driven as the word suggests? Could he make her feel better about herself? What would she need to do to get over whatever or whoever had scorned her?

Wilson hoped that he wasn't contributing to the problem himself; she was his to protect, not hurt. He could see how she might feel he was perfect or showing off, in turn making her feel insecure. Wilson knew, however, that he was far from being perfect. Besides his multiple sexual transgressions with Becca, he drank, he partied, he talked about crude things with his friends, he objectified women, he stayed out all night more than once - he'd done a lot of things that, looking back, he wasn't too proud of. Most of it was before he had even entered high school. He was certainly not a role model for anyone.

The only thing he was doing was the best that he possibly could for himself. If the choice didn't serve him or his wife, he wasn't going to make it. He'd turned his life around and cleaned it up in these past few months. She was his main focus for now, until their child arrived. The baby was coming quicker than anyone liked to admit, and that meant that he was going to be responsible for a whole other life besides his own. In four months, he would be thinking about his son or daughter instead of himself. What a shock that was going to be.

Another thing he had realized was that he and Becca were very self-involved. Their problems were the end and be all of the world, and if it wasn't happening directly to them then they simply didn't care. At first he thought that that was because they had a lot going on, which made them selfish, but now he was not so sure that was the case. They were selfish when they had unprotected sex and they were selfish when it came to everything else in their lives. He was just now only learning what it was like to put someone else before himself. He only could pray that they were able to change things before the baby came.

A baby. He and Becca were really going to have a baby. They would be parents in a matter of months. He was so scared but, at the same time, terribly excited. He had been waiting and waiting for the baby to come along for a while now. He couldn't wait to hold it and know what it was like to have that kind of love in responsibility. Becca was already starting to show, and he loved her slightly rounded stomach. Wilson smiled when he thought about it.

The smile lingered on his lips for a few minutes until he came to his astute conclusion not to tell Becca any of his musings, at least not yet. If he could find the answers to his questions without coming right out and asking her, then great, but otherwise he wasn't getting into it. It was all much more complex than he thought their relationship could handle.

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A/N: Now, if you read this straight through or have a good memory, you'd know that I say at the beginning of the story that Wilson isn't doing that great in school. Decent – not as bad as Becca – but not amazing. Now he's like some super genius or something. I would have fixed it, but that would have required too much editing and, for a piece like this, I would much rather have the continuity error than edit it out of the time allotted to write.

Oh, and the whole ending was just to boost my word count, and it shows. There's no point to any of it. The whole self-esteem issue was not something I ever wanted to delve into. It's not mentioned again after this.

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	25. Chapter 25

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Wilson swam hard and fast, tearing through the water in front of him in his lane. Sports really were a great way to get out all of your aggressions with life. At first he hadn't wanted to run, but in time he grew to love that too. Physical exercise often brought him perfect mental clarity, and he enjoyed the alone time.

He touched the wall and pulled his head out of the water quickly to look up at his coach. Wilson knew that was a good swim; he could feel it when his hands glided through the water and his feet kicked behind him.

"50.1," Coach Walker yelled out. The entire pool clapped. "Congrats kid. You did it."

Wilson smiled widely. "Wow. Great."

"Yeah, it is great, and that's all you need. I don't want you to kill yourself anymore trying to get that down. Just stay at 50. You'll smoke the competition for sure with that time."

"Are you absolutely sure? Because-"

"I'm sure." Coach Walker laughed. "Quit bellyaching. You're fine."

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Wilson put his hand lovingly on top of Becca's. "Oh, I forgot to tell you. I got my time down enough. 50.1. Now I just have to maintain it and I should be good for nationals."

"That's great." She kissed his cheek. "I'm proud of you. And, speaking of overcoming obstacles…I got an 87 on my French test."

"What?" His face lit up and he reached out to hug her. "Becca, that's great."

"And I've read about half of my book so far for English class."

"Great."

"It's not that great. I've just been stuck here sitting. There isn't much else to do but homework."

"Could that perhaps be the silver lining?" he asked as he rubbed his hand over hers.

"All I see is cloud."

Wilson smiled sadly. "I'm sorry."

"Me, too, but it's fine. You do what you've got to do." She yawned. "And what I think I should do right now is go to bed. Will you take me?"

"Gladly" he answered as he stood and picked her up.

X

Becca saw Wilson write his name on his homework and smiled at him.

"What?"

"Nothing. I like your name. Wilson. It's different. You don't meet too many guys named Wilson."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," she said. "Have you ever met anyone else with your name?"

"No, unless you want to count a basketball."

She laughed. "What are you talking about?"

"Wilson. It's a sports company. They make balls."

"Baseballs? I like baseball."

"No, I don't think they make baseballs," he said as he inched closer to her.

"Really?"

He kissed her passionately, and then pulled away. "Nope."

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A/N: Another short one. Next chapter will be up right after this one. And just a quick note about the name thing. It was an add-in so that it would fit in with later in the story. You'll see when we get there.

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I think Wilson's name is groovy. Please review.

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	26. Chapter 26

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Becca drove up to Wilson's school and kissed him to say good-bye. Before he turned to get out of the car, he just stared at her. He couldn't believe she had not said anything to him. She didn't mention it yesterday, and didn't even bring it up this morning. He got out, still looking at her, and stood beside the car.

"Are you going in or not?" she yelled out. She didn't understand why he was not moving.

"No," he said and got back into the car. The leather seat was still warm from where he had been sitting in it. "Do you have any idea what today is?"

She gave him a weird look. "No." She thought for a second. "Your birthday's in July."

He just laughed. "Yeah, it is."

"So what's today then?" He just stared back at her and laughed again. "Tell me or don't tell me and get out I have to go."

"It's Valentine's Day sweetie."

"It is? Wow." She paused. "How could I have missed that?"

"You're a busy woman." He leaned in and kissed her softly, savoring the moment. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Tonight- I've got stuff planned."

She laughed. "Do you?"

"I do. I still have to go to practice, but I'll be home."

"OK." She kissed him. "Bye."

X

Wilson walked in the house to find it was pitch black. His parents had gone away for Valentine's Day, probably so they could get away from Wilson and Becca, so Becca should have been the only one home. The only light was the dull flicker of the TV against the walls of the living room.

"Becca?"

There was no answer, so Wilson followed the light. He saw Becca conked out on the couch, the TV on mute in front of her playing the five o'clock news. Instead of waking her up, he decided to switch his plan around a little bit. Since he knew his mom wasn't going to be home to cook dinner and Becca couldn't go out to eat, he was going to cook for her. He put the flowers he'd gotten on his way home aside and got out his ingredients.

The only thing Wilson really knew how to cook was pasta. Becca's favorite type of pasta was tortellini, so he had bought a package of that a few days ago with a jar of tomato sauce. On the side, he made a can of dinner rolls. Desert he had a cake that he made a few days ago when Becca was napping that he needed to frost.

By 7:00, the table was set with all the food. Tortellini with sauce on the dinner plates, dinner rolls on the side, cranberry juice in glasses for a hint of red, and Wilson's just frosted cake in the center on a cake stand. He picked up the bouquet of roses he had sitting in water, dried off the ends, and went to wake up his wife.

Wilson crouched down in front of Becca and gently tapped her after turning off the TV. Her eyes opened and she jumped when she saw his face right in front of her. She closed them again and rubbed her face.

"What time is it?"

"A little after seven. Get up."

"But I'm tired," she complained.

"I know, but I cooked dinner for us."

"You what?"

"I cooked dinner. Time to eat."

She sat up and squinted her eyes as they adjusted to the light. "This I have to see. Carry me."

"I will," he smiled, "but first…" Wilson handed Becca the roses and she gasped.

"When? How?"

"I have my ways, believe me."

She kissed him passionately, but he pulled back reluctantly. The food was getting cold. Wilson scooped Becca up into his arms and walked her to the kitchen table, where he gently placed her down onto the wooden chair. When she saw the spread before her, her mouth dropped. She didn't know what to say.

"You made all of this yourself?"

He sat in his chair next to hers. "Yup. Not entirely from scratch, but I made it."

"I'm really impressed." The awe showed in her eyes. "I never knew you could cook…or bake."

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me."

"I guess so," Becca agreed.

"Now eat up."

Becca dug into her food, smiling to herself because he made one of her favorite meals. She looked over at Wilson and caught him staring at her; she blushed. She could just tell in his look how much he really loved her. He didn't know it, but Becca often questioned the verity of their love since they were so young. When she saw the way he looked at her, when she thought about the things he did for her, there was no doubt in her mind that he was being honest every time he told her that he loved her. Wilson was the real deal.

"Do you like it? I wasn't sure what brand of sauce to get, and-"

"It's perfect. Thank you. I really appreciate everything you do for me. Well, I try to at the very least." Wilson laughed. "Don't laugh at me."

"I'm not. It's just, your honesty. It's cute. No one is as blunt as you are."

"Thanks…I guess. Was that a compliment?"

"Sort of," he said with a chuckle.

Wilson stabbed another tortellini and put it in his mouth. He reached over and picked up Becca's hand and squeezed it. Most of the reason why he did this was not because it was their first Valentine's Day together – married or otherwise. Becca had been grumpy since she had been put on partial bed rest, and Wilson would have done anything to make her feel better about it. He hated knowing she was dissatisfied.

"Look," she said to him, "I'm sorry I didn't do anything for you. And that I totally forgot today was Valentine's Day."

"It's OK," he said after he finished chewing his mouthful of food. "Valentine's is the man's job anyway."

"Yeah, I guess it is." Becca took the last bit of her roll and soaked up some of the tomato sauce with it, finishing her meal. "So, what type of cake is that?" She pointed at it.

"Are you ready for cake?"

She smiled widely. "I've been eyeballing it since I sat down. I want a huge piece."

Wilson found her to be so funny. "OK." He stood and got a knife and two forks out from the drawer and two smaller plates from the cupboard. He reached over and pulled the cake plate closer to him so he could cut it without reaching over the table. Wilson lined his knife up so that he would cut from the exact center out, and broke into the cake. He pulled out the knife when he got all the way through and, placing the knife three and a half inches from where he had first put it, sliced the other side of the piece. He placed the knife underneath and slid the cake off of the plate and onto the dessert plate in his left hand. Becca gasped when she saw it.

"Is that food coloring?" The cake was a deep shade of red, which had been masked by the chocolate frosting.

"Nope, it comes like that. It's Red Velvet cake."

"How adorable!" she remarked as he placed the piece down in front of her. When he sat down after cutting himself his own piece, she leaned over and kissed him passionately. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

Becca took a bite of her piece. "It's really good. I'm impressed with you. Cooking and baking. What other hidden talents do you have?"

"Uh, I know how to sew a little."

"What?" she laughed. "Really? You're so domesticated. I can't do any of that stuff. You're lucky I know how to use the microwave."

"So you don't know how to cook," he said. "Big deal. I might be able to teach you."

"What about how to sew?" she asked with a grin.

"Oh, that's easy. Just don't ask me how to sew a button. I never mastered that." He smiled at her widely. "What's some stuff that you can do?"

"Uh… well, I can ice skate."

"I can't," he said as he licked frosting off of his fork. "You've already upped me."

"Can you roller blade?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, then I'm sure you can ice skate. It's the same thing, kind of. Roller blading and ice skating are like cousins."

"I see."

"We should go ice skating some time," Becca suggested. "It would be fun."

"I'm sure it would be, so long as I didn't kill myself."

She squeezed his hand. "I'd let you hold onto me; I wouldn't let you fall."

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Becca and Wilson were making out on their bed, with Wilson lying on top of Becca. Her hands were on his chest; he had one on her hip and the other on her face. They had been on the bed for nearly a half an hour doing this before Becca pushed him off of him. Grudgingly, Wilson pulled away and laid down next to her on his side of the bed, his head propped up by his hand.

'What?"

"I want sex!" she whined and covered her face with her hands. "This is so awful! I don't think I can do it. I-"

"Becca." He tried to clam her down with his voice, but it didn't work very well. Instead, he placed his hand on the bulge in her stomach and she quieted down. "We can't. The doctor said-"

"I don't care. The doctor's not here right now."

"Yes, but I don't want anything to happen to you or the baby. I'm sure your blood pressure is elevated enough just from kissing."

"Exactly my point," she said with a sigh. "I'm all riled up and there's nothing to finish with. I don't know how people do the whole abstinence thing for real. I think I'd stab myself."

"What a pleasant thought."

"Enough with the jokes," she said.

"What jokes? You were the one who said-" She glared at him. "OK, OK. I'm sorry. But, I don't know. There has to be more to us than sex."

"Not 'sex'. Amazing sex. Hot sex. Good sex." She feigned crying. "Wilson."

"I know, I know," he rubbed her arm.

"No, you don't know. If you knew you'd be as upset as I am. I'm losing it and you're just fine."

"I really think it's just from you not being able to move around. If you could come running with me, you wouldn't feel so bad."

"If I could go running with you we could be having sex so that wouldn't even be an issue!"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." He sighed. "But, but there has to be other things we can do."

"Like what? Nothing that isn't going to raise my heart rate sky high."

"We could just lie here together."

Becca's jaw dropped. "You want to cuddle! You're the guy! You're supposed to be the one begging for sex! What is wrong with you?"

"We can't, it's fine."

She looked into his eyes. "I don't get it. Why?"

"It's easy for me to forsake that in lieu of you having a seizure or something weird happen. Something bad. You're worth way more than a night of passionate, great sex. And it was great. I agree with you. We're amazing together."

Becca was quiet for a few moments. Eventually, she looked over at him and pushed him flat onto the bed. She rolled so she was half on top of him and positioned her head against his chest. "…I guess this is better than nothing." Wilson looked down at her face to see she was pouting. He had to bite his lip to contain his laughter.

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A/N: Ah, the Valentine's chapter. I love this one. The red velvet cake thing was actually an idea I had myself, completely unrelated to the story, and I built the whole idea of Wilson cooking the meal around that. Besides, I didn't have many options. It wasn't like I could have Wilson take Becca somewhere, now could I?

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	27. Chapter 27

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Wilson sat at his lunch table with his plastic tray. Today's lunch was a hamburger with sides of French fries and carrot sticks. He took his spot next to Tyler and about five people down from Richie. After their fight, they had made up a little, but not entirely. In general, they were OK with each other. Wilson came in in the middle of the conversation the boys of the swim team were having. Wilson quickly surmised, however, that they were talking about going out that night. It was a Thursday, so they had no practice.

"That place sucks," Richie said to a junior. "We should all go to the drive in. There are tons of girls there."

"Yeah, we should. You're right."

Wilson saw Richie looking around the table out of the corner of his eye. Richie surveyed the people there and then decided to extend the invitation to the entire team. "You guys want to go to the drive-in tonight?"

There was a chorus of yeses coming from the table. Wilson groaned; he'd have to speak up and directly to Richie. "I can't."

"Why not West?"

"Because I have plans."

"What type of plans?"

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Just plans."

"Well, what if I make this a mandatory team event? What would you say then?"

"I'd stay I still have plans and I don't have a ride."

Richie smiled sinisterly. "Scott will be at your house at 7:00 to pick you up. Happy?"

There wasn't much Wilson was able to say in response to that. He had learned very early on that it wasn't a great idea to disobey Richie. "Fine."

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Wilson was still angry about Richie making him go with the team to the drive in that night when the afternoon rolled around. He didn't want to leave Becca all alone until who knows when to go hang out with her ex-boyfriend. He wasn't only her ex-boyfriend; he was her ex-lover. Wilson hated Richie even more for that.

As soon as he got in the car that afternoon, he knew he had to come right out and tell Becca his plans for the evening. "Becca, I, uh…"

"Yes?" She sounded kind of concerned.

"I have to go to the drive-in with the team tonight for dinner. I told Richie that I couldn't go, because I didn't want to, but he specifically made me. He's making Scott come pick me up and everything. I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "That's OK. I know how he gets. I'm sure you fought to stay with me tonight."

"As hard as I could without causing a scene," he said with a sigh.

"They don't know we're married yet, do they?"

"No, of course not. That would be a disaster."

"I know," she conceded. "I dated half the team or one of their brothers." Becca watched Wilson tense at the prospect of her being with other guys, but neither of them said anything. "You just go tonight and have as good of a time as you can. Don't worry about me."

"Thanks for understanding."

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Scott came to pick Wilson up a little past seven o'clock. Wilson kissed Becca goodbye in their bedroom and then walked through the house and out the front door. He hopped into Scott's convertible and they sped off to go to the drive-in a good twenty-five minutes away, maybe fifteen the way Scott was driving. When they got there, they pulled up next to the rest of the guys on the team and got out of the car to scout for girls. After all, that was the purpose of their meeting.

Wilson just followed the pack and didn't look around at any of the girls from any and every high school in the southern California region. He tried to seem as inconspicuous as possible, but he had to have known that he wasn't going to get through the whole night unnoticed. When Richie didn't immediately find any girls that interested him, he decided he'd do the next best thing- annoy Wilson.

"You see anything you like?"

"Not really, no," Wilson answered honestly. "What about you?"

"Who cares about me?" Richie quickly changed subjects. "I'll find you a girl. Don't worry. You still into redheads?" Wilson knew that was just a jab at him for stealing Becca, so he didn't answer. "Very well. I'll do what I can with what's here. It's not as good as a Friday night."

Wilson just nodded and watched Richie go off. Richie traipsed around with the rest of the boys searching for the perfect girl for Wilson. Once he found the most forward and brazen girl of the whole lot, he brought her lip-smacking self over to meet Wilson. She had brown curly hair in a ponytail. She wore way too much perfume and eye shadow, and she smacked her gum as she walked toward him.

"This is Marjorie," Richie said with a crude smile again.

"Hi," Wilson said meekly.

"She just moved here from Jersey in August."

"I see."

She smacked her gum and then spoke. "You're cute."

"Um, thanks." he didn't know if he should tell her that she looked nice herself or not; he decided not to. Maybe then she would go away.

"I'll leave you two alone," Richie said and walked away.

"What exactly did Richie tell you about me?" Wilson asked.

She smiled. "He said that you're looking for a girl and since I don't know too many people I'm looking for a guy."

"I'm…," Wilson didn't know what to say, "not looking for a girl. Sorry."

"Are you seeing someone?"

"In a way, yes."

"In a way? What, did you knock a girl up? I knew this one girl, back in New Jersey, that got pregnant by some guy on the basketball team-"

Between her brashness and her accent on the word 'ball', he just couldn't deal with it. "I'm sorry. I have to go." Wilson just walked away from her and went over to the first person he saw that he knew, Tyler. "You didn't find someone? Everyone else has someone."

"I know. All the good girls are taken."

"Well, there's some girl over there who was hitting on me."

"Yeah, I saw her. No thanks."

Wilson laughed. "Yeah, that was what I said."

X

Scott dropped Wilson back off at his house around 10:30, with only two girls in the back seat that were going home with him. He walked into the house, hung up his jacket and went straight into his bedroom. Becca was sitting on the bed waiting for him to come back home.

"Gee, that only took forever."

"Sorry. It's not like I was able to drive myself."

"I know," she sighed. "So how was it?"

"Uh, interesting," Wilson said as he pulled his shirt off and changed into pajamas.

"Did you meet any girls?"

"Yeah, I guess. There was some girl from New Jersey that Richie sacked on me."

"New Jersey?" Becca laughed. "Was she a mall rat?"

"A what?"

"A mall rat. Did you ever see that movie?"

"Oh," he understood now, "yeah. I did."

"My cousin's from New Jersey. East Brunswick. The mall there, that was the mall that the movie was based on- or so she said."

"Well, she had big hair and smacked her gum at me."

Becca cracked up. "No kidding?"

"Nope." Wilson crawled into bed next to Becca. "I'm sorry I left you tonight."

"I forgive you." She kissed his cheek. "Besides, you not being here gave me the opportunity to actually do all of my homework for the night."

Wilson nodded his head in amazement "I'm impressed."

"What about when the baby comes?" Becca asked. "How am I going to be able to get any homework done then? How, how are you going to stay on the swim team? How are we going to have any sort of life?"

"We will," he answered plainly.

"How?" She seemed very upset.

"Was this what you were thinking about the whole time I was gone?"

"Yeah, kind of. I mean-"

"What? You'll be all right. We'll be all right. Things have a way of working themselves out, especially when you don't know what's ahead of you."

"I guess so."

Wilson kissed Becca lightly on the lips. "It'll be OK sweetie. Trust me, it will."

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A/N: I want to comment on the whole New Jersey thing. First of all, I live there, so I'm allowed to make fun of it. I modeled the girl, Marjorie, after an eighties mall rat, hence the Mall Rats reference. The thing about the Brunswick Square Mall being the basis for the movie is what I have heard, so it might not be true, but at any rate it fits in since Becca heard it as a rumor.

The "no kidding' is a Kevin/Ben reference. That "journal" thing from Season 7 was hilarious.

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	28. Chapter 28

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Becca woke up Sunday morning with a killer headache. She told Wilson about it first thing when he got up, but the only thing he said was that he heard somewhere that she shouldn't take aspirin or acetaminophen while she was pregnant, so he wouldn't get her any medicine. When she continued to complain about how much it hurt, he brought her a warm rag to put on her forehead. It helped a little, but not too much. She couldn't even raise her head off of her pillow.

"Are you all right?" Wilson asked her after Becca had been that way for the past two hours.

"I don't know. I guess I'm fine. It's just a headache."

"OK." He bent down and kissed her forehead. "If you say not to be concerned then I won't be."

Becca really didn't think anything of her headache. It was just another part of her miserable life. After being bound to the bed by her doctor's word, now she was bound to her pillow by her head. When Wilson left her, all she could do was grumble before finally deciding to take a nap. That usually helped when she didn't feel great. Wilson came to check on her a half an hour later, she was already fast asleep. He left her alone so she could get some rest.

Becca woke up about three hours later in the early afternoon. She felt worse than she did when she was awake before, so she yelled out for Wilson. She didn't even open her eyes, as she was sensitive to the even the natural sunlight streaming through the windows. Wilson came into the room and smiled at her, shutting the door behind him. He sat on the bed and rubbed his hand over her leg. "How are you doing now?"

"Not any better. My head still hurts really bad, I feel nauseous, my ears are ringing," she put her head to her forehead, "and I think I have a fever. Maybe I'm sick." He looked at her strangely. "What?"

"No, I don't think you're sick." Wilson got up and began to scour the room. He moved clothes on the floor, papers on the desk, anything and everything that something could be hiding under. He only stopped looking after he opened one of his drawers. He pulled out a piece of paper and read it over carefully.

"What's that?"

"One of those pamphlets you threw at me. 'If you have any of these symptoms, seek medical attention immediately: severe headaches, vomiting blood, excessive swelling of the feet and hands, smaller amounts of urine or no urine, blood in urine, rapid heartbeat, dizziness, excessive nausea, ringing or buzzing sound in ears, excessive vomiting, drowsiness, fever, double vision, blurred vision, sudden blindness, pain in the abdomen.' I think we should get you to the hospital."

Becca couldn't believe what he was saying. "Hospital? I just have a cold or something. No."

"Becca, I'm taking you to the hospital." He was firm with her. "I don't want anything bad happening."

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Wilson paced around the waiting area of the emergency room at the local hospital. His mother sat patiently in a chair near him. As soon as they came in and said that Becca was pregnant, they whisked her away and said that Wilson couldn't come, that they would him in a little while. A little while had turned into an hour and a half and he was more than a little concerned.

Wilson felt even more ill-at-ease because his father was not with him. It was a Sunday, so technically his father had the day off, but there had been some sort of "eye emergency" and was in surgery. He was still in the hospital with Wilson, but not the way Wilson needed him to be.

Wilson stopped pacing in front of his mother. "Did you have Dad paged?"

"Honey, he's in surgery. You can't page him when he's in surgery; it's fruitless."

"Well, can you have them page him when he gets out? Can you have someone tell him we're here?"

"Yes, you can. Go up to the main desk and ask them to page him when he gets out of surgery."

Wilson sighed. "I don't want to leave Becca." The main desk was at the other end of the hospital.

"Um, you could call your father's service. He should check it when he gets out. The pay phone's right there." Mrs. West pointed to the left of Wilson.

Wilson nodded and went over to the payphone and dialed the number. "Hey Dad, it's Wilson. Um, I had to take Becca to the emergency room. When you get this, please come see find me and mom. Bye." Wilson hung up the phone and went back over to sit next to his mother. "Do you think she's OK?"

"She seemed fine. I doubt it's anything serious."

"But it said in that pamphlet to get help and she's been back there for a long time."

Mrs. West wrapped her arm around her son's shoulder. "It'll be OK. Don't fret."

Wilson sat there for another half an hour before anyone came out looking for Wilson. "Becca West?" a nurse yelled into the room of stressed-out patrons.

Wilson stood and left his mother behind. He followed the nurse into an examination room where he found Becca laying on a hospital bed. He embraced her and kissed her sensitively. She seemed so scared, but was trying not to show it in front of Wilson.

"Are you OK?"

"I don't know. They're making this huge fuss about it, though. They called Dr. Van Zandt in."

"That can't be good," Wilson remarked.

"I know."

"They're not done with me, but I asked them to go get you. It's creepy just sitting in here by myself."

He pulled up a chair and laced his fingers with hers. "What did they do to you?"

"They examined me, they took an ultrasound, they monitored the baby's heart, took my blood pressure about 77 times, listened to my heart. It's really been a whole to do."

Wilson sighed. "Are you feeling any better?"

"A little." She lifted her other hand to reveal the IV dripping into her vein. "I think that's what this is for."

He hugged her again tightly. "I'm not going to leave you. No matter what I'm here."

X

Dr. Van Zandt stood before Becca and Wilson. She looked concerned, more concerned than Wilson thought was normal. Doctor's usually didn't show much emotion to their patients, but the worry in Dr. Van Zandt's face was visible. "I'm going to admit Becca. Her blood pressure is really, really high. She's on medication to try and bring it down, but we're treading a fine line. Medication and pregnancy don't really mix. She and the baby will need to be monitored every hour for the next week and be on strict bed rest. At that point we'll see whether or not we have to keep her here."

"What happened?" Becca asked, her voice meek.

"You almost miscarried. I'm not exactly sure what brought it on, though, because you said you were sleeping. But, at any rate, it happened."

"When is a projected time that she can come home?" Of course, that was the first question out of Wilson's mouth.

"If I had to guess, I'd say that she's in here for the duration of her pregnancy most likely. We don't take scares like these lightly."

"What?" Becca sat up fully. "I can't be in here for ten weeks. I have school. I- I can't. I won't."

"You don't have a choice."

"Becca, calm down." Wilson rubbed the side of Becca's arm. "It's fine." He turned to Dr. Van Zandt. "Thank you."

"No problem. Someone will be in as soon as Becca's room is set up." She walked out the door.

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A/N: She's already in the hospital already? Man this is going by past. Not too long now.

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	29. Chapter 29

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Wilson slept in a hard plastic chair next to Becca's bed the whole night. His father came to see him after he got out of surgery, and conceded that he and Becca seemed to be forging an uphill battle with this pregnancy. Dr. West gave Wilson some sage advice about everything happening for a reason, but Wilson didn't agree with him. His time would have been better spent finding a pillow and blanket for his son to use that night when he slept.

His parents begged him to come home, even Becca told him he could leave. Wilson's response was that a real man didn't leave his wife in a time of crisis. He declared that he wasn't leaving Becca, for school or otherwise, until things were more settled. Everyone thought Wilson was getting a little too philosophical with all of this, but no one was in the mood to pick a fight with him.

Neither Wilson nor Becca got any real rest, though, because the nurses kept coming in and out of Becca's room. They had to check her blood pressure and the fetal monitor every hour on the hour. The commotion was making both of them restless, so much so that Becca gave up on trying getting any real rest around four in the morning.

"You awake?" she asked into the room.

"Yeah." Wilson sat up more and looked at her. She was hooked up to all of these machines that measured everything under the sun; it scared him.

"This bites," she finally said after a few minutes.

"Yeah, it does," he said with a bit of a laugh.

"You can go home if you want. Your parents said they would pick you up if you changed your mind."

"Are you kicking me out?" he asked jokingly.

"No, but you can't exactly be comfortable in that chair. Go home and get some real sleep. I'll be fine."

"I want to stay with you. Why doesn't anyone understand that?"

She finally turned her head to face his. "I understand. I just don't want you to feel like I'm holding you hostage."

"You're not. It would be worse if I was home by myself knowing that you were in the hospital."

She nodded. "Are you going to school tomorrow?"

"No, of course not. I'm staying with you Becca. School, everything else is so unimportant compared to all this."

X

The phone rang in Wilson's house around 9:00 the next morning. With no one else at home, Mrs. West answered it.

"Hello?"

"Hi. I'm calling from the attendance office at SCBA. Is this the West residence?"

"Yes, it is. This is Mrs. West."

"Hi Mrs. West. Are you aware that your son isn't in school today?"

"Yes, I am, and I'm so sorry that I didn't call that in. Things have just been a bit hectic around here."

"Is there a reason why Wilson isn't in school?"

"Yes." She thought for a moment before she said why. She remembered Wilson and Becca saying that they weren't telling anyone they were married, and she was correct in assuming that that extended to school, too. "There was a family emergency. I don't know when he'll be back in. I'm shooting for sometime this week."

"I'm sorry to hear that." The woman on the other end wasn't sure what to say, "Is-is everything OK?"

"More or less."

"OK. Well, thank you for your time. Good bye Mrs. West."

"Good bye."

X

Wilson took a walk around the hall midday Monday. As much as he loved Becca and being with her, he could only sit and watch her watch soaps for so long. At the end of the hall was the elevator He stopped for a minute looked at it. There was a sign near it with a listing of what was on what floor. The gift shop was on the main floor. Wilson thought they might have something there to help him pass the time, so he hopped in the elevator and went down.

Becca sat in her bed watching Angie and Jeremy yelling on what she had deemed her favorite soap opera from all of the days that she had played hooky. Ten minutes passed and a nurse walked into the room. She smiled at Becca, went over to the monitors, wrote down the readings into her chart, and then left as quietly as she entered. Wilson came in just as the nurse was going out.

"I thought you were going for a stroll down the hall," she said when he entered. "What took you so long?"

"I stopped in the gift shop." Wilson showed his purchase to Becca, a pack of cards. "Want to play? I'm bored."

She sat up a little bit and shut off her TV. "OK."

Wilson moved his chair close to her bed and sat down. "What do you know how to play?"

"Not much," she conceded.

"Do you know how to play BS?"

"Never heard of it."

"It's easy. You deal out the whole deck, and then who ever has the ace of spades puts it down. Then the next person puts down all the twos they have. If they have, say, three twos, they say 'three twos' and place them face down on top of the ace. The next person puts down all their threes, et cetera. The winner gets rid of all their cards first."

"But what if I have a two and you put down twos? How can I get rid of mine?"

"Ah. You can lie. When you say 'three twos', or whatever, you can be putting down any card- it doesn't have to be a two necessarily. If I think you're lying, I say BS. If you lied, you pick up all the cards. If I was wrong, I pick up all the cards. And if you lie and I don't catch you, you say…well, everyone plays differently. Pick a word to say. Anything."

"Uh…." Becca looked around the room for an object. Wilson smiled at her. "Lips."

"Lips?"

"Yeah. You have great lips."

He laughed. "OK. Then say lips."

Wilson dealt the cards and then looked up at Becca. "Do you have the ace of spades?"

Becca checked her cards. "Um, yes I do. Put it down?" Wilson nodded, and Becca placed the card face up on the bed.

"OK, then I start." Wilson put down two cards. "Two twos."

"One three."

"Four fours."

Becca looked at her cards. Wilson couldn't have had all the fours. Becca had one in her hand. "BS," she announced triumphantly. Wilson grumbled and picked up the cards that had been put down. "Ha!"

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A/N: Yes, you read that right. I just did about 300 words on playing cards. How ridiculous! Again, that was a word count thing more than anything else. But, it kind of almost makes sense. I rewatched "Breaking Up Is Hard To Do" a couple of days ago and in it Wilson suggests to Mary that they could play cards, and that he is a good card player. Either that was completely subconscious that I put I tin there or plain dumb luck. I'm going with the latter.

I'm pretty sure there are seven more chapters after this one, if anyone is into counting.

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BS! Review.

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	30. Chapter 30

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The phone rang in Wilson's house Wednesday at noon. Again, Wilson's mother answered it. Wilson and Becca were both still at the hospital. "Hello?"

"Hi, this is Dr. Zapata. Is Wilson West there?"

"No, he's not. Are you calling about Becca?"

"No, I'm from Southern California Boys Academy. I'm the school psychologist. Wilson hasn't been in school for three days now, and I heard there was some sort of family emergency. I just wanted to make sure everything was OK."

"Everything is fine," she said, not really knowing who this man was.

"It's not Becca, is it? Wilson told me about her preeclampsia."

Mrs. West was shocked. She didn't think anyone knew about that. "You'll really have to talk to Wilson about this. I'll tell him that you called. Good bye."

X

Dr. Van Zandt knocked on the door to Becca's room and then walked inside. Both Becca and Wilson looked up at her, expecting the worse.

"Hi. How are you doing Becca?" Dr. Van Zandt asked as she read over Becca's chart.

"I feel pretty OK."

"Any headaches, light sensitivity, blurred vision?"

"I had a slight headache yesterday, but it really wasn't that bad. Barely noticeable."

"Was this around three o'clock?"

"Yes." Becca was shocked that she was able to pinpoint it like that.

"OK," she said, "I'll cut to the chase then. I doubt you want to hear this, but Becca, you now officially have a high risk pregnancy."

"High risk for what?"

"This late in your pregnancy, high risk for a still birth, giving birth to a deceased baby."

Becca's face turned white. "Oh."

"I can't let you go home until you have the baby. I'm sorry but you'll be spending the rest of your pregnancy in the hospital."

"She can't come home at all?" Wilson asked.

"Not until after the baby is born. If she's not constantly monitored, we run the risk of hurting her or the baby. I'm sure you don't want that."

"Of course not."

"Good." She smiled. "Now, let me examine you and then I'll leave you two alone."

X

Wilson looked on as Becca slept before him. She had not said a word to him since the doctor told her she wouldn't be able to go back home. Becca went directly to sleep and that was that. Wilson was left alone to ponder how this would affect them and him.

First off, Wilson knew he had to go back to school tomorrow. If he didn't, he would be missing a lot of work, instead of just a bit of work. The more he missed, the easier it would be for him to fall behind and never be able to catch up. He wanted to be at least up to speed with his class when the baby was born. Speaking of school, Becca still needed to get her education herself. Her school didn't even know that she moved, much less that's she's married and having a baby. That would be something they would have to figure out together- how they were going to handle telling people since Becca being in the hospital would further complicate things.

As she slept, Wilson had the opportunity to think things though, as if he had the power to make all the decisions himself. If things went his way, he would go back to school tomorrow, spend every night with Becca, and at least tell Tyler about his situation in case he needed to get his homework or something. They would tell Becca's school nurse that she was in the hospital, keeping the knowledge on a strictly confidential basis, and would somehow arrange for her to study from the confines of her hospital bed. That sounded like a perfect plan to Wilson.

When Wilson looked at Becca, though, he knew better. He knew she would never go for telling her school what was going on for fear of everyone knowing. He didn't blame her, either. He was in no rush to tell his school. They would have serious misgivings in regards to teen pregnancy, especially since they were an all-boys school.

Becca stirred in her sleep a bit and he finalized his decision. He would tell Becca that he needed to go back to school tomorrow, and ask him about telling Tyler. He assumed she would give in reluctantly, but would not put up too much of a fight since it didn't involve her doing anything. She would say that as long as he didn't think Tyler would spread it all around the school, then Wilson could do what he wanted. He would talk to Dr. Zapata tomorrow, too, and ask him about what would be the right thing to do as far as notifying Becca's school was concerned.

Just as Wilson planned, Becca woke up a few hours afterwards. She sat there mute, staring into space. When she stated looking for the remote to the television, that was when Wilson decided it was time to nab her before she drifted into the seclusion of TV land.

"Becca."

"Yeah?"

"I want to talk to you."

She turned her head toward him. "Then talk."

"I know that you have to stay here, but I really have to go back to school tomorrow. I'm going to fall too far behind if I don't." She sighed loudly. "If you don't want me to go then I won't."

"It's not that. It's just not fair that you can leave from here and I can't. I almost wish I could go to school."

Wilson picked up her hand. "I know. I wish there was something I could do to fix this."

"You can't. Just forget it." She lifted her chin up. "Go to school tomorrow."

"OK. Thanks. And, um…"

Becca knew she hadn't heard the end of it. "What?"

"I was thinking that I should tell someone our situation. Just one person."

"Who?"

"Tyler." Wilson had told Becca about Tyler a bunch of times, so there was no need to explain to her who he was. "He's in a lot of my classes, so he could bring me my work so I could miss more school and be here with you." She looked less than enthused. "I'll swear him to secrecy."

"I don't want anyone to know Wilson. You can tell Tyler, but only if you are sure he won't tell anyone else. I don't want it getting around to Richie or your entire school populace. If it gets around your school then it'll get around my school and I don't want that happening."

"OK." He paused for a second. "What exactly don't you want getting around?"

"What do you mean? Everything."

"Are you ashamed?"

"Kind of. Being pregnant at sixteen isn't exactly a good thing and you know that. You have no idea what kind of life I led before you or what my life is like at school. My reputation- having everyone find out I'm pregnant would be torture. I really don't feel like being scorned this lifetime."

"OK, OK. Fine. I get it." The last thing they needed was to be fighting right now. "So I can tell Tyler?"

"Tell him. But I better not find out Friday that the whole town knows."

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A/N: The therapist guy calls the house, Becca can't leave, Wilson rambles, and then he wants to tell his boyfriend about the girl he's keeping on the side. That sounds about right. I don't do this whole "winding down" thing too well, in case you haven't noticed. Once I get close to the end I peter out and don't have a strong finish. Oh well. There's always next time.

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Becca is shamefaced. Review.

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	31. Chapter 31

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Wilson closed his locker Thursday morning after getting the books he would need for his first few classes and fixing his tie. He was going to find Tyler in the morning. He decided that if Tyler asked him where he had been, he would tell him then. If not, he was going to wait until later, maybe after school. Wilson looked into their homeroom, and Tyler wasn't there. He went to Tyler's locker. Not there. The last place there was to look was the cafeteria, the spot where most of the student body frequented in the morning when they did not have anywhere else to go.

Tyler was sitting with a bunch of the boys in the freshman class at one of the far tables with his navy blue and white varsity jacket on. When Tyler saw Wilson, he immediately stood up and walked away from the crowd and toward his friend.

"What happened? Were you on your deathbed or something?"

"No, uh, could I talk to you for a second?"

"Uh, sure. You're not going to hit on me or something, are you?"

Wilson hit him in his arm. "No." They walked over to a section of the cafeteria that was deserted. "Uh, you know Becca, right?"

"Yeah." Tyler was noticeably confused. "What about her?"

"I, uh, I kind of got her pregnant back in October. We got married like two months ago."

"What?" His jaw dropped. "How- you're married? What?"

"I know, I know. You can't tell anyone though. Becca and I don't want anyone to know. You're the only person who knows besides our parents."

"O-OK. Yeah, sure. Whatever you need."

"Speaking of what I need…"

"What, there's more? I don't know if I can take more. That's some pretty heavy stuff."

"Becca's in the hospital on bed rest. She's got some blood pressure thing and she and the baby are at high risk. That's why I wasn't in school the past few days. I just wanted to know if I could call you for the assignments and stuff if I'm not here again."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"Um, sure. I'm here for you man."

"Thanks. You, you really can't tell anyone, though. Becca made sure I'd take care of everything so no one would find out. If anyone knows I'm dead."

"Don't worry, I won't say anything. It's no one else's business, right?"

"Right."

Tyler grew quiet. "I'm sorry she's sick."

"Yeah, me, too."

"So…do you love her?"

Wilson nodded. "Very much. It's weird. I'm fifteen, but she's everything."

"I could never imagine being married. That's way too much responsibility for me."

"It's not that bad. It's not easy, but it's worth it."

X

Wilson didn't go to lunch that day. Instead, he went into Dr. Zapata's office. He was seeing someone, so he had to wait until half the period was over before he was able to get in to see him. When the senior who was in there was done talking to Dr. Zapata about his college woes, Wilson's turn came.

"Wilson! So nice to see you," Dr. Zapata said as he shut the door.

"Yeah," Wilson said as he sat.

"You know, I called your house yesterday. Your mother answered and she seemed very distraught."

"Oh, she did? My dad didn't mention that when I saw him this morning. I haven't seen my mom since Sunday afternoon." Wilson knew that last sentence needed clarification. "Becca's in the hospital. She had some sort of preeclampsia scare- I really don't know exactly what happened. But she's on strict bed rest now and it doesn't look like she'll get out until she delivers the baby. I haven't left her side in Sunday afternoon, not until my dad picked me up and took me to school this morning."

Dr. Zapata took a few seconds to process the information. "How far along is she?"

"Six and a half months."

"Oh, wow. That's a long time to have to be in the hospital for."

"Yeah, I know."

"How is she holding up?"

"She's kind of bitter at the moment, but nothing that can't be fixed I guess."

"So she's just sitting there alone all day?"

"Yeah. There isn't much I can do about that. I mean, I have to come to school. I'm spending the rest of the time I can with her. I'm sleeping in the hospital, all that stuff."

"You're a good kid, you know that?"

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't let all of this screw up your academics. I know when things like this happen, everything else takes a back seat, seems unimportant, but your schooling should still be a big part of your life. Make sure you finish out your year."

"I'm planning on it."

"And Becca?"

"I have no idea what's going through her head. But there was something that I wanted to ask you about."

"Yes?"

"What should I do now? How do I tell Becca's school? Because she's not going to be able to come back now until… maybe not until next year if she decides to stay home with the baby for a little while."

"You'll have to work something out with the school. If I were you, though, I'd push for them to allow her to do some sort of home study, and then take her finals and if she passes those then she'll pass for the year. "

"Would losing her year be such a bad thing? She'd just end up in my grade."

"Again, it's up to you. You'll have to talk that over with your wife."

"Yeah." He sighed. "That and her parents. I don't know if she wants me to tell her parents she's in the hospital or not. They might care."

"Just might?"

"They don't really like her."

"So you've said. But she's in a bad way right now. That can tend to make people come around."

"Or push them farther away."

X

Wilson gingerly entered Becca's hospital room. He was preparing for the worst, since when he left this morning she wasn't in the best of moods. She seemed at least relatively content, so he went over and kissed the top of her head. "Hi honey. I'm home."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Cute." He took his seat next to her bed. "How is the outside world?"

"It's not all it's cracked up to be, believe me." She smiled. "I told Tyler today."

"And?"

"And he's not going to tell anyone."

"Was he shocked?"

Wilson nodded. "Really shocked."

"I don't blame him. If someone told me that I'd be shocked, too."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Look, Beck, I've been thinking."

"Uh-oh," she said with a laugh. "What is it now?"

"What are you going to do about school? You can't go back until next year probably."

"I don't know. School isn't at the top of my list right now."

"I was thinking we could get them to let you do some independent study thing. You could finish out the year here, and they could let you take the final or something and if you pass that then you can pass for the year and advance to the eleventh grade."

"Good luck explaining to the school that I'm pregnant and in the hospital. They'll blow a fuse and kick me out. Then I really won't be getting an education."

"They can't do that. That's discrimination."

"Yeah, but they will."

Wilson sighed, deep in thought. "What if I get your dad to tell them? Then maybe you'll have a chance."

Her head whipped toward him so fast Wilson jumped. "No."

"But-"

"Wilson, stop. Stop your little do-gooder thing for a second and listen to me. I don't want my parents involved. They won't care and, if they do, it'll turn into a big mess. Besides, I got married so I could take care of myself and get away from them. I'm not going crawling back. Not now, not ever. I'm done with them. You knew that."

"Yeah, but extenuating circumstances-"

"There are no such things as extenuating circumstances. And if there were, this isn't it."

"Becca-"

"No." She let out a frustrated sigh. "Stop. This is more my problem than yours and I say no."

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Wilson stayed up that night and watched Becca sleep as he pondered the situation. He needed to make her confess something to someone. They needed help; she needed help. They both knew it. Admittedly, the school thing seemed much more complicated than her parents, so Wilson concentrated on that. It would be a more viable option for a fifteen year old boy than taking on an entire school board.

A nurse came into the room and checked on Becca and the baby quietly before walking out. Wilson looked at his watch. It was a little after two in the morning. Wilson thought that no matter how much someone was paid, they couldn't get paid enough to work through the night. That was it. Her salary. Money. Insurance. Becca's parents still paid for her health insurance. They would be notified that she was in the hospital through the bill. There was no way that they could not know.

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A/N: Oh, next chapter is the John scuffle. That's a trip, let me tell you. (Not really.) Does Becca yell at Wilson in this chapter? I believe so. And she should. As much as I love him, how annoying he can be!

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Health insurance scheme! Muah ha! Review.

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	32. Chapter 32

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Wilson sat in his math class learning about the graphs of quadratic equations. As much as he enjoyed math, he really could never get excited about a semi-circle graph that went on infinitely. The knock on the door was a welcome interruption to the boring class. The teacher excused himself and went to the door. After some whisperings, the vice principal motioned Wilson over. Amidst some "oohs" from his classmates, he stood and walked out the door.

"Wilson, do you know a John Tanny? He's here and he's demanding to see you. He's making up some crazy story about being your father-in-law."

"Oh, yeah. I know him. Where is he?"

"In the main office."

Wilson walked down the corridors, ahead of the vice principal, and saw Becca's father yelling and screaming at one of the secretaries. "Mr. Tanny," Wilson yelled out.

"Thank God," John yelled out. "Finally."

"What brings you here? What do you want?" Wilson already knew why he was here, but he figured he'd play dumb. That would be the best way to approach this, the way that would make the smallest scene. Everyone was already staring at them; there was no need to make it worse.

"I got some bill today in the mail for $2500 from the Bay General Hospital saying that Rebecca is there. I went to her school, and she's not there. Apparently she has not been there all week!"

Wilson didn't say anything.

"Did you murder my daughter?"

"What? Mr. Tanny, no. Becca's had some complications from the pregnancy and she has to stay in the hospital. That's all."

The compassionate switch flipped in his head. "What's wrong with her?"

"She has preeclampsia."

John nodded. "Her mother had that when she was pregnant with Stephanie. All she did was complain the whole time about how scared she was. I imagine Becca's no different."

"Like mother, like daughter- at least for the complaining. She's not really scared."

John sighed heavily and shook his head to clear his head. "OK. Well, that's all I wanted to know. You can go back to class now."

That was quick. "…Do you want me to relay a message to Becca or something?"

"Nope."

"O-OK." Wilson turned around and rolled his eyes. Some concerned father he turned out to be. He was going to take off down the hallway, but turned back around. Mr. Tanny was already halfway down the hall, but Wilson still yelled out to him. "She's in Room 518 if you wanted to go see her."

John Tanny didn't even bother to turn around. He held his hand up to acknowledge that he had heard what Wilson said, but didn't say a word. He disappeared around the wall and was not to be seen again.

X

Wilson went straight to the hospital from practice. When he walked back in the room and said hello to Becca, he noticed a blanket and a few new pairs of clothes on his chair.

"Your dad was in the hospital today. He brought them for you," Becca said.

"That's funny."

"Why is that?"

"Because I saw your dad today."

"What? Wilson, I told you not to! God, why don't you listen! Now you're getting me all worked up and-"

"I didn't."

"What do you mean you didn't?"

"I didn't ask to see him, I didn't contact him. He came and found me at school. He got the bill for your hospital stay, since you're still on his insurance and all."

"Oh," she said quietly. "Sorry."

"It's OK."

"What did he say?"

"He asked me if I tried to murder you."

She laughed. "Really?"

"Yeah…since you were in the hospital and not in school and all." He laughed, too. "I told him about the preeclampsia. Your mom had it with Stephanie. I guess it's hereditary."

"Yeah, it is." Becca got a distant look in her eyes. "Did he say anything else?"

"Not really, no."

Wilson could have sworn he saw her eyes tear up. "Oh."

Wilson got up on the side of her bed and hugged her tightly. He had no idea that she longed for a relationship with her father this badly. "Becks."

"No, it's fine. Just a hormonal moment."

"Still," he said and pulled her in tighter. She needed the hug.

X

Dr. West had two back-to-back surgeries to do. He stayed in the hospital until past dinner time, so he knew Wilson was probably in with Becca. He decided to stop in and see them before he went home for the night.

He knocked and entered. Wilson was doing his homework and Becca was playing solitaire on the bed. "Hi kids."

They both looked up. "Hey," Becca said.

"How's everything in here?"

"Boring."

He smiled at Becca sympathetically. "Savor this time. You're both together and it's quiet. Once the baby comes you won't be so lucky." Becca just nodded.

"Are you holding up OK?"

She just shrugged.

"She's fine," Wilson answered for her.

"I'm fine, I'm just sick of being in this room. It's been over a week. There's not even a window in here. The only things that change are him," she pointed to Wilson, "and the nurses every eight hours."

"You're doing it for a good cause. Your health is important."

"Not as important as my sanity."

"Ah- that's mental health." Becca laughed sarcastically. "Anything you want me to bring you?"

"No, that's OK. Thanks though."

Dr. West nodded. "Bye guys."

Becca looked to Wilson, who had gone back to reading, then back at her hands. He saw her look at him and looked up.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Don't think I don't know that you're not fine. I just don't know what to do for you. If you can't be helpful, be harmless."

"You're not being harmless. You're being annoying. You're just sitting here. Do something!"

"What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know. Come up with something!"

"It's not like I haven't been thinking Becca. Give me a break."

"Fine." She sighed heavily. "You know what, I'm going to just drop it. I don't want to fight with you. It's dumb and it's not worth it."

"Thank you. Now can I go back to reading or are you going to be upset that I'm ignoring you?"

"No, read."

He tried to read but he couldn't. Becca had annoyed him to the point of no return. "I can't read now." Wilson put his book down on the floor next to him and stared at Becca.

"What?"

"Nothing. I didn't think it was going to be like this. Do you know how much we fight?"

"Uh, yeah, I do. And I hate it. But I can't help it. We're in a high tension situation I guess. Stress happens."

"Can we call a truce or something?"

"I will if you will."

"OK." He reached out and shook her hand. "It's a deal. No more fighting- at least for tonight."

"No more fighting."

X

It was twelve o'clock at night when Becca noticed Wilson just staring at her. Usually he was asleep by now, since he had to get up the next morning for school. Instead he was just sitting there- and it was creeping her out.

"What are you looking at?"

He shook his head, breaking his trance. "Nothing."

"No, you were staring at me. Why? Is there something on my face?" He laughed and sat on the side of her bed. "What?"

"I love you." Her eyes widened and she hit him. "Ouch. What was that for?"

"You want sex from me, don't you?"

"No. Yes. No."

She leaned in and kissed him. "I applaud your suave attempts at seduction, but I am afraid they're lost on me. You know we can't-"

"I know, I know. I just feel like sex would fix everything."

"As opposed to just talking it out? You boys are all the same. All you want is sex and more often than not you're too chicken to come right out and ask for it."

"See, now that's not fair," he said.

"Why not?"

"Because I wouldn't have come right out and said it because I know we can't."

"Yeah, but you never said it before. You just get that weird look in your eyes and stare at me. That's how I know."

"And you, you-" He went to counter her point, but realized it was futile. Becca was a pretty vocal person.

"Exactly."

"But fine," he said, "forget this then. Let's just talk."

She picked up his hand and held it in hers. "OK. About what?"

"School."

"I thought you were trying not to fight," she said with a sigh.

"No fighting, just talking."

"School is a hassle," she finally confessed. "I barely keep my head above water when I'm there. I couldn't learn it by myself. And you couldn't help me because you're a year behind me. So when they said I had to stay here, I decided to hell with it. I'll loose the year and repeat it. Besides, squeaking by and not learning anything won't exactly help me."

"True, but, I don't know if that's really the right thing. I want what's best for you."

"I know, but did it ever occur to you that I might want what's best for me, too? I know my limitations, I know what I want, I know what I should be doing. And right now, I just want to tackle one problem at a time."

"Yeah, but don't you think I know you, too?"

"Not as well as I know myself." She squeezed his hand. "Wilson, I love you, and you're a nice guy, but just…calm down a little. You've been trying to fix it all. You can't. Let it go sweetie."

"I'm sorry."

She smiled. "You don't have to apologize. But fix it. Drop the macho act and start acting like a normal person."

He laughed. "Was it that obvious?"

She laughed, too, and kissed his cheek. "Yes."

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A/N: I always thought the relationship between Wilson's parents and Becca would have been a cute thing to explore. There really isn't much of that in the story, but it probably would have been good had it existed. Well, existed more.

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Stress happens. Review.

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	33. Chapter 33

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Wilson slept the sleep of the dead after talking to Becca for hours. Neither of them went to sleep until well after three in the morning. Wilson was only awakened at 6:30 when there was commotion in the room. His eyes opened and he saw three nurses crowded around Becca, who was lying on her side, away from him.

Wilson stood and looked at all the hustle and bustle for a few minutes, trying to decipher what it all meant. No one even noticed him standing there until he cleared his throat.

"Oh, um," one of the nurses said to him, "father?" Wilson nodded. "We didn't want to wake you, but you should wait outside."

"What's going on?" No one answered him; they just stayed crowded around the monitors. "Becca?"

"Wilson," she said, still not turning over. "Just go. Do what they say."

Wilson walked out reluctantly. As soon as the door closed behind him, Wilson got a chill up his spine. He had never been this scared in all of his life, and he didn't know why. Something was rotten in the state of California. People came and went from Becca's room two, three at a time for twenty minutes. Finally, he grabbed one of them by the arm and waited until they looked him in the eye.

"What's going on?"

"I don't know. I'm just a technician. I'll get the doctor for you if you want me to."

Wilson nodded. "Please do."

Another fifteen or so minutes later, a man came out of Becca's room. He stopped in front of Wilson and looked at him. "Are you Mr. West?"

"Yes."

"Are you, by chance, related to Dr. Geoffrey West?"

"Yes, but I'd really like to know what's going on with Rebecca."

"Oh, right. I'm sorry. Her blood pressure went up and she was experiencing a pain in her side. We'll need an ultrasound to confirm it, but we think her liver is enlarged."

"Um, OK. What does that mean exactly? Is that bad?"

"To be frank, yes. It…I don't want to commit to anything yet before we see the ultrasound. We're just waiting for the machine."

"Can I go in and see her?"

"Not yet, I'm sorry."

Wilson nodded sullenly and the doctor went back inside. This was not good, not good at all.

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Wilson eventually went and sat down in the waiting room on the floor, since everything was taking so long. That was where his father found him when he came to pick Wilson up to take him to school. He told his dad that he wasn't going to go to school that day, since evidently he had a situation on his hands. His father wished he could stay with Wilson, but he had to go to work. He promised to check back in on him later and left.

It took nearly an hour and a half until someone came out to find Wilson. He stood when Dr. Van Zandt called his name out. "What's happening?"

"Becca's not doing so well. Her liver is leaking. Preeclampsia makes your blood vessels a bit permeable. She's at risk for HELLP syndrome, where red blood cells are abnormally destroyed, liver enzymes are high, and the cells involved in the clotting of blood are low."

Wilson sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his hair. "So what now? What do we do? What does this mean for her and the baby?"

"That's what I was coming out to tell you. We have to deliver to reduce the risk of internal bleeding."

"But-but she's not even eight months pregnant yet."

"I know that, but there isn't much choice. We can't wait that much longer."

"How long do you have? Is it going to happen right now?"

"No. We have a few hours, so we're going to give her a steroid to speed up the growth of the baby's lungs so it will have a better chance of surviving on its own."

"But it will be premature, right?"

She nodded. "But, to be completely honest with you Wilson, we're more worried about Becca than the baby."

X

Wilson walked into Becca's hospital room quietly. It was just her laying in there with two nurses doing things around her. She had an IV in her arm and the sound of the baby's heart could be heard throughout the room.

"Hey," he whispered at the side of her bed.

Immediately, she reached for his hand and held it over her heart. "I'm-I'm going to have to give birth. Today."

"I know. The doctor told me." Wilson expected her to be scared or crying, but she was calm. He wasn't really sure what to make of that. "Are you OK?"

"My side hurts really bad, but other than that I'm fine."

"Are you scared? Because it's OK if you're scared."

"I'm not. Not yet anyways." She looked up at him. "Why, are _you_ scared?"

"A little. They're worried about you." He didn't know if she knew, but here was no need to beat around the bush. Things were getting serious.

"I know." She nodded a little. "But, you know what? It's fine. Everything is fine." She looked up into his eyes. "But, all the same, sit down." He did as he was told. "I love you Wilson. I love you. And I'm happy that I married you, I don't regret it for a second. You're an amazing man and you're going to be a wonderful father."

"Thanks. And you're going to be a great mother. I love you, and you've made me so happy as my wife. But your job's not finished yet. You're not allowed to go anywhere, OK?"

She saw he was tearing up. "Hey, stop that. Nothing has happened yet. Wait a bit before you turn on the water works."

"How are you so calm?"

"It's like I told you before. I know myself. I know my body. Everything is all right."

X

Wilson went through the halls to a place he had only visited once or twice before, the nursery. He peered through the window with about five or so other people. It was midday now, and peak visiting time. The babies in front of him were the ones that were born healthy, after growing for the right amount of time and coming out at a normal point in the pregnancy without any complications. To the left of him was the nursery for the premature babies. He walked over and looked at that window. All of the babies were so small, some small enough to fit in the palms of both of his hands.

He couldn't comprehend how something that small could be jeopardizing Becca's life so much. She was so many times bigger than it, and so many times bigger than her stupid liver that was failing. He understood everything that was going on, or at least all that was told to him, but he just didn't get it. Why Becca? Why their baby? Why him? Why now? Why any of these other babies, these other families that he was looking in on now? Why?

Wilson couldn't make heads or tails of his emotions. He was angry, hurt, sad, and confused all at once. He felt them all so strongly, and that, coupled with his passionate love for Becca, was making him a wreck. He could only imagine how she was feeling. He had to go back to the room to see her. He had had his break. Now it was time to go back into the line of fire. Let's hope that he is ready for the challenge.

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A/N: Hrm. It appears there are two more chapters until _something_. I think a few of you don't know how the story is going to end so I won't spoil it, but it's not that hard to figure out.

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Challenge? Like Real World/ Road Rules? Nah, more like The Gauntlet! Review.

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	34. Chapter 34

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Wilson paced back and forth, back and forth until someone finally stopped him by saying that Becca wanted to see him. He rushed into the operating room only to find her legs up in the stirrups and a white sheet raised above her stomach.

"What's going on?"

"Because of the risk to Becca and the baby," Dr. Van Zandt explained, "we have to do a c-section."

"What about her liver?" Wilson asked as he went and took Becca's hand, stroking the top of her head with his free one.

"After we deliver the baby, we'll deal with that. But, I must warn you, you might not want to be in here for the delivery."

"Why not?"

"Her blood is not clotting the way it should. We're doing everything to fix this, but she's going to lose a lot of blood. I don't know if you want to see that or not."

"I don't care," he squeezed Becca's hand. "I'm staying with her."

X

Wilson went out to the payphone in the waiting room. He took a deep breath and called his home number, awaiting his mother's voice on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Mom? It's Wilson."

"How's Becca? Your father called me."

"She has to deliver. Her liver is leaking and her blood vessels are doing something."

"Oh my. I don't know what to say. Do you want me to come down there?"

"Yeah, but you don't have to rush. Give it an hour or so."

"OK." She paused. "How far along is Becca now?"

"A few days shy of eight months."

"I had you at eight and a half months," his mother said, desperately trying to make him feel better. She didn't know what else to do. "It's natural for the first baby to be born a little early."

"This isn't natural. They're forcing it."

He heard her sigh into the phone. "It'll be fine honey. Don't worry."

X

Wilson sat next to Becca as they pumped her full of twelve different medications and prepped her for the major surgery to deliver her child. Becca was pretty out of it, but more alert than could be expected. Wilson saw them preparing the scalpel and his knees went weak.

"Are-are you sure you want me to stay?" He asked her.

"Chickening out?" she whispered.

Wilson had all these images of Becca being sliced open and blood being everywhere. His mind was definitely going at light speed. "N-no." He gulped.

"I'm not going to force you, but I'd like you to be here. Please stay."

"Sure. I'll stay." He closed his eyes and willed the images to leave his head. With moderate success, he regained his composure.

"If you stay," one of the nurses piped up, "stay by her head. The sheet is here for a reason."

"Um, thank you."

Becca saw Wilson's face immediately drain of all color. "Are you squeamish?"

"I didn't think I was. But the thought of it all now is making me sick." He immediately cursed himself for admitting it. Becca had enough to worry about. She didn't need him on her mind, too. "But I'm fine. Don't worry. It's really OK."

She laughed a little and closed her eyes slowly. "Whatever you say."

Becca was out of it for the next twenty minutes until Dr. Van Zandt came in with another doctor, a surgeon Wilson was told, and they went to change her medication.

"Wait a sec," the new doctor said as he looked up at Wilson. "You're staying here?"

"Yeah," he answered.

"You can't. She's at too high of a risk. You'll need to leave."

"But I want to be with her. She wants me to be with her."

"She's going to be knocked out. We need to use regular anesthesia, not just an epidural."

"Why?"

"It's best for her and the baby. Trust me."

Dr. Van Zandt intervened. "You can stay here until she actual goes out, OK?"

Wilson looked to Becca and she nodded at him. "OK."

Dr. Van Zandt walked up to Becca. "Let me explain the procedure. A thin tube called a catheter will be placed into your bladder to drain urine during surgery, and the needle in a vein in your hand has already been inserted to give you fluids during the operation and medications if needed. We are going to shave your abdomen, and after that and you are asleep, I will make the first incision. Dr. Kramer is just here to observe and assist me if I need him. The incision will be just above your pubic bone. The second incision is made in the wall of the uterus. I will then open the amniotic sac and remove the baby. You should not feel anything. Next I will detach and removes the placenta. Then the incisions in the uterus and abdomen are closed, and as long as all goes well you'll be done. The procedure will take about forty-five minutes to complete, but the baby will be out in about five minutes. I can bring it right out to Wilson if you want me to after it's cleaned up."

"Sure," she said, "but what do you mean 'as long as everything goes well'? Shouldn't everything be fine?"

"Yes, it should. But we don't call high risk pregnancies 'high risk' for kicks and giggles. You're at a higher risk for complications due to your preeclampsia. But I have done plenty of births, most of them cesarean births, successfully. So has Dr. Kramer. You are in good hands." A nurse went over to Becca with a needle. "We're going to put you to sleep now."

"What am I, a dog?"

"No, no. I'm sorry. We are going to administer the anesthesia. Say good-bye to your husband and we will begin."

Wilson bent down so his face was at her level. He reached out and rubbed his hand over her cheek gently, ending by tracing her bottom lip with his ring finger. "I love you." He kissed her lips, then her forehead.

Becca used most of her strength to reach for his hand and squeeze it as tightly as she could. "I love you, too."

"Bye honey. I'll see you in forty-five minutes."

"When you see the baby," she said before he had a chance to walk away from him, "tell him that I love him."

"Him?"

"I have a premonition."

Wilson smiled at her. "OK, I will. Bye Becca."

"Bye," she whispered.

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A/N: Let's see. This about as cliché of a birth as you can get so far and I made up that whole liver thing. I don't really see how this could be any worse. And, on top of all that, everyone seems to be sick of Wilson, Becca, or both. I find that laughable actually.

I believe there are two more chapters after this one. The last chapter is almost 3000 words. Oh mon Dieu!

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Ding dong. There's a stork at Wilson's door. Review.

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	35. Chapter 35

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Wilson watched the clock that was hanging on the wall right outside the operating room. Twenty minutes had passed. Didn't Dr. Van Zandt tell him that the actual birth would only take five minutes? It had been four times that long. Was he just going crazy? Maybe he was just too nervous to be listening to anything. He remembered it had been two hours since he talked to his mother. There was a strong chance she was at the hospital right now. Too bad she had no idea where to find him.

Twenty one minutes now. What was taking so long? Wilson had such a bad feeling- a bad feeling about everything. He was antsy and angry all at once. What was going on? Maybe, maybe they just aren't bringing the baby to him. Maybe something was wrong with the baby? Maybe everything was wrong?

He couldn't do this anymore. He sat down on the floor outside of the door, across from the clock, and watched it tick by. Minutes upon minutes upon minutes. He tried so hard to drain his head of all the negativity, but he just couldn't get it all to go away. He really should have been in there, he thought. That way his jitters wouldn't have been that bad.

Fifty minutes after Becca had gone into surgery, the door opened. Dr. Van Zandt came out of the dimly lit grey room and stared at Wilson.

"What?" He could tell by the look on her face that something was terribly, terribly wrong. "What happened?"

"The baby is fine. A little underweight, and a little bit more fluid in the lungs than we'd like, but just fine. Fine enough to go home as soon as you'd like."

Wilson swallowed hard. His throat suddenly went bone dry. "And Becca?"

"Her blood wasn't clotting. At all. We tried everything, both myself and Dr. Kramer, but we couldn't stop it. The preeclampsia prevented her blood from clotting the way it normally would have." She took a breath and then continued. "She hemorrhaged to death. I'm sorry Wilson."

Wilson slowly reached for the wall behind him. He leaned against it, tilting his head toward the sky and closing his eyes tightly. "I thought you said everything should be fine."

"I did, but I also said that she was at high risk for serious complications. There wasn't anything that I could do."

"Fine." His tone was embittered and angry. "Is it a boy or a girl?" he asked before opening his eyes.

"A boy. He's in the nursery. I had to put I'm there because we were still trying to save Becca."

He nodded, and she walked away after telling him once again that she was sorry. He breathed in and out slowly, concentrating on just getting through the next thirty seconds. After he did that, he reflected on what had just happened. He had a baby boy. Becca was right. He went to smile, but tears in his eyes stopped him. He quickly blinked them away and walked out of the area. He needed a bit of an escape.

Wilson was on his way to the waiting room on what used to be Becca's floor to meet his mother when he stopped. At the nurse's station, he asked if one of them could page his father, saying him to come to the waiting room on the fifth floor. They said they would and he went on his way. When he walked into the waiting room, he was surprised to see both his mother and father walking in from the other direction.

"Where did you come from?" he asked.

"I was with your father, since I couldn't find you." Wilson nodded. "So how did it go?"

"Awful."

"What do you mean awful?" Dr. West probed.

"My son is fine, but Becca's dead. She bled to death. The preeclampsia, it screws with your blood's ability to clot. She's dead. Not only am I a father at fifteen, I'm a widow."

"Oh my Lord," Martha said, covering her mouth with her left hand.

"Son, I am so sorry."

"Yeah," he said quietly, "me, too."

X

Wilson stood outside of the nursery looking in. One of the nurses went inside to get the baby for him. He saw her walk to the second row, third baby from the left. He had just the smallest amount of light brown hair on the back of his head and his face was all scrunched up. He was a little smaller than Wilson pictured, as per Dr. Van Zandt had said, but not too bad. He seemed healthy enough. That was what mattered right now.

The nurse came out and handed him to Wilson. "Here's little…oh, he doesn't have a name, does he?"

Wilson thought for a second, and then came up with it. "If I tell it to you, can you name him? Officially?"

"Sure, but I didn't mean to rush you. You might want to consult with his mother first."

"Too late," he said with a sigh. "She's dead."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"Me, too." He wasn't at the point yet where he could answer 'thank you' to that question. He was still too angry.

"So, what is his name?"

"Wilson Junior."

"And you would be Wilson Senior?"

"Yes."

She nodded approvingly. "Cute. I like it. I'll fill out his birth certificate for you."

"Thank you." She turned to walk away, but he decided to stop her. "Wait."

"Yes?"

"Can I take him? Take him home I mean? There's no point in me sticking around here. My wife is gone."

"You sure can. You'll just need to sign him out first."

X

Wilson got in the back of his father's blue Volvo. His father had canceled all of his afternoon obligations to be home with Wilson and Wilson Jr., who up until now had barely made a peep. Wilson was happy to see that his mother had brought one of Wilson's old car seats and put it in the backseat. Wilson put his son in there and, as soon as he let go of him, he started to wail.

"And so it begins," his mother said.

His father started the car. "What did you name him?"

"Wilson Junior. I want to call him Billy."

"Billy, that's cute. That's one of the reasons we named you Wilson you know. There are so many names you can get out of it."

"I was named for versatility? Great," he mumbled.

"Wilson is a fine name," his mother continued. "You must have thought so. Otherwise you wouldn't have named your son that."

"Becca told me once that she liked it. We never discussed names. We never discussed anything." Wilson was on the verge of loosing it, but he looked over at his crying son and pulled it all together again. At least he could wait until he was able to placate young Billy before he cried. That was the courteous thing to do.

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A/N: OK, so she's dead now. I've read the ending like thirty times and the only part I like from now until the end was Wilson with the nurse lady when he named Billy. And the car scene wasn't that bad. Next chapter, all 2800 words of it, is horrendous. Just a word of warning.

Next chapter is the end! Yay!

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So she's now. Now what you ask? Review, silly.

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	36. Chapter 36

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Wilson stayed holed up in his room with Billy for a day and half before Billy finally fell asleep. Once Wilson emerged to ask his mother to watch Billy so that he could grab a bite to eat and take a shower, acts that would only take fifteen minutes total together, he wished he hadn't. When he came out of the room, he had thought that he had heard yelling, but he wasn't exactly sure. He was still in a daze from having a new baby and losing his wife.

He walked into the living room, where he thought his mother was, and stopped dead in his tracks. There in the living room were John Tanny and, surprisingly enough, a woman that had to be Becca's mother, Susan.

"You, son, you have a lot of explaining to do!"

"Excuse me?" Wilson asked.

John charged at the teen, and Wilson stepped back. "You killed my daughter!"

"No, I didn't."

"Yes you did. If you kept your pants on Rebecca would still be alive right now! You killed her!"

"Her preeclampsia killed her, the one I told you about when you hunted me down at school."

"You threatened him at school?" Geoffrey asked.

"No, he didn't threaten me."

"You killed my daughter!" Mr. Tanny yelled out of nowhere.

"No, I didn't!" Wilson screamed. As if to echo, Billy yelled in the other room. "Excuse me, your grandson is calling."

"Don't even think about playing the pity card and asking if we want to see him. We don't."

"Fine." Wilson said and walked away. "Have it your way."

"And don't think about doing the funeral arrangements, either! We're doing that."

"Go ahead!" Wilson walked into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him. Good grief.

X

Wilson didn't go to school for the next week. He didn't know what to do with himself. In fact, he didn't leave the house at all. He didn't attend Becca's funeral, not only because he wasn't invited, but because he had already said goodbye. He did not need to be at a remembrance with a bunch of people who had no idea who she was. He could do it all on his own terms, the way Becca had lived her life.

School, which had been so important to him in the past, now took a backseat to everything else. Billy was needy. He, himself, was needy. Everything was falling apart, and he still had to act like he had it all together. It was a tough job for anyone, much less for a fifteen year old widowed father. He completely forgot about all things pertaining to his outside life. Everything had lost all meaning and he fell into this warp of self-despair and heartache. When the doorbell rang one afternoon, it didn't even register to answer the door. Nothing made sense.

Martha came into Wilson's room, where he was rocking a crying Billy, and smiled sympathetically at her son and grandson.

"Yes?"

"There's someone here to see you."

"Who is it?"

"Some boy from school."

Great, Wilson thought. That eliminated no one. "OK, I'll be right there."

She nodded. "He's in the living room."

Wilson stood up and Billy quieted. He was going to leave him with his mother, but then decided against it. There was no point at hiding it now. He just hoped that it wasn't Richie who had come to bother him; that would be a total disaster. He turned the corner into the living room and was relieved when he saw only Tyler sitting on his couch.

"Whoa," the boy said when he laid eyes on his friend and his child.

"Yeah," Wilson mumbled and sat.

"No wonder you weren't in school." Wilson nodded. "So what's his name?"

"Billy, Wilson Junior actually."

"You named him after yourself? How narcissistic of you."

Wilson sighed heavily. "I didn't know what else to name him, OK?"

Tyler was taken aback at Wilson's apparent belligerency. "OK, sorry. I didn't mean to offend you." He paused and looked around the room before speaking again. "Didn't Becca have any names in mind for her son?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

Wilson sucked in his lips and looked down at Billy, averting his eyes form Tyler's. "Becca died Tyler. She died giving birth to Billy. She bled to death and they couldn't save her."

"What?" Tyler asked quietly. "No."

"Yes. She's gone and now I have to raise him all by myself."

"But- but your parents will help you, right?"

"Yeah, but they're not going to do it all for me."

"What about school? How-?"

Wilson shrugged. "No one is really talking to me- my mom and dad that is. I think they're trying not to upset me. But you know, they wouldn't, as long as they don't disrespect her. I can see it in their eyes. They're thinking, at least a little part of them, that she brought this on herself. That she got what she deserved for living the way she did." He shook his head. "She was only sixteen. No one deserves to die at sixteen, no matter what they did. She didn't know any better. No one cared about her. I was the only one. It's- it's not so much that she was taken from me. It's that I was taken from her."

"I-I don't know what to say man." Tyler was noticeably upset.

"You don't have to say anything."

"I'm sorry this happened, to both of you."

For the first time, someone actually seemed like they meant it. "Thank you."

"Do you need any help from me?"

"No, I've got everything under control. But you can keep this a secret. Just forget we were ever married. Don't tell anyone I have a kid. Don't say anything."

"I won't. Don't worry."

"Thanks."

X

Dr. Zapata checked the attendance list for the day. Wilson was absent again, for the fifth day in a row. He needed to get in touch with him, and didn't think that he could get to talk to him if he just called his house. He needed to get over to his house and confront him face to face. Something was definitely going on. He hoped that everything was OK.

Dr. Zapata went into the guidance office, the office that his was an offshoot of, and went over to the filing cabinet.

"Can I help you with something Dr. Zapata?" the secretary asked.

"No, no. I can find it. Thanks anyway, though."

She smiled at him and went back to her work. W….W, he repeated to himself. S. T. U. V. W. Ah ha. He pulled out Wilson's folder and set it on top of the cabinet. Grabbing a piece of paper and taking the pen out of his pocket, he copied down Wilson's address. 75 Maple Lane; that was down off of Third Street.

Dr. Zapata went back over to the secretary. "Um, I'm going to be taking an early lunch now. I have something that I have to do, pertaining to a student. I should be back in about an hour or so."

"OK." She smiled politely, and he was off.

X

Dr. Zapata knocked on Wilson's front door. A disgruntled and disheveled Wilson opened the door. He was surprised when he saw his confidante in front of him, at his house no less.

"Dr. Zapata? What are you doing here?"

"I was worried about you. You haven't been in school all week. When I called before I was unsuccessful, so I figured I would try the face-to-face approach."

"Well, please, come in."

Dr. Zapata walked in and looked around. Baby stuff was everywhere, but besides that the house was empty. Wilson showed him into the living room and asked him if he wanted anything to eat or drink, but Dr. Zapata politely refused. He was still in awe over the clutter. "Don't tell me that baby was born," he said after a few moments.

"Yes, he was." Dr. Zapata picked up on Wilson's less than enthused attitude. "Billy West, no middle name."

"That's very nice. Congratulations." Wilson didn't respond with the regular "thank you" like a normal person would have. "Where is he?"

"Oh, he's sleeping, thank God."

He smiled. "Is Becca here? Can I meet her?"

"If you want to meet her, you'll have to do it through a picture."

Dr. Zapata wasn't following. "…Did she leave you?"

"No." Wilson sighed. "I guess I'll just tell you, stop beating around the bush." He took a deep breath, getting that déjà vu feeling. "Becca died. She bled to death; her blood wasn't clotting. She had a c-section and died before they could close her back up; she died giving birth to Billy."

"Wilson, that's horrible."

"I know."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"Me, too."

"Was there a funeral?"

Wilson didn't know how he knew. Maybe it was because he was a professional. "Yeah. I didn't go. Her parents came over here and blamed it all on me, so I had enough of them. And I'm sure it was full of people crying who didn't know Becca at all. I knew her. I said good-bye before she went into surgery. There isn't much I can do."

"Funerals are a good thing, though," Dr. Zapata began to explain. "They give you a time to let go of the person, and to let go of your feelings. When you don't go and say goodbye then, it's a lot easier to carry around the emotions of losing a loved one for a longer time than you would have if you went."

"OK, but it's too late now. It's over."

"You can always go to her grave."

"No, I can't. It's too far to walk and I don't have my license yet. And I am certainly not going to ask someone to drive me there."

"Forgive me if this offends you, but I think you have a problem showing weakness."

"I have tons of problems, but right now my biggest one is being a widow and a father at the age of fifteen."

Dr. Zapata sensed he wasn't finished. "And?"

"And that's what I'm dealing with right now. All the rest of my personality flaws have to wait. I have to take care of my son, and get past all of this"

"Fine," he said. "I understand." Dr. Zapata stood. "I really am sorry about Becca."

"I know." Wilson smiled reminiscently. "Do you want to see a picture of her?"

"I would love to."

Wilson got up and rummaged round the living room. Underneath a blanket, he found what he was looking for. A picture of Becca one afternoon when they were driving around. He took a picture of her when she was stopped at a red light. It was his favorite picture of her. The light shown through her hair just right, making her look like an angel. Now she really was one; it seemed befitting of the circumstances.

Wilson handed the picture to Dr. Zapata and he looked at it for a bit before looking up at Wilson. "She was very beautiful."

"Wasn't she?" He smiled. "I love how you could always see her insides on the outside. Sometimes you have to get through a lot of layers of a person to get to know them, and she was the same way, but at the same time she was so shallow, in the literal sense of the word. You could see right into her, at least I could. I loved it. I loved her." He ran his right hand through his hair. "This is awful."

"Yes, it is. I'm not going to lie to you or try to sugarcoat it. The only thing I can say, which is true whether you choose to believe me or not, is that it will get better. Out of this I am sure you will feel some better sense of understanding and what the purpose of life is. There's no way that you can't come out of this a changed man."

"I agree with the last part."

Dr. Zapata stood and put his hand on Wilson's shoulder. "If you need me, you can always contact me." He had given Wilson his home phone number a while ago.

X

The phone rang at 3:00 sharp that afternoon. Wilson was still the only one home, so with Billy in one hand, he reached for the phone with the other.

"Wilson, Coach Abrams."

Oh great. "Hey Coach." Inside Wilson was screaming.

"Are you OK? You haven't been in all week. Nationals are Wednesday you know."

Wilson had completely forgotten all about that. The school had paid for him, the coaches, and the six other boys to stay from Tuesday night until Friday morning in Maryland for the competition. All the work he had put in, the rest of the relay team that was counting on him, all the other guys swimming who didn't deserve to beat him, the school. And now he couldn't go. "About that…"

"Yes?"

"I can't go."

Coach Abrams nearly dropped the phone. "What?"

"I've had an extreme and unforeseen family emergency and I need to stay home for a while. I'm sorry Coach."

"I don't believe this. We worked so hard. I worked so hard with you. And know you're blowing it off? For what?" Wilson didn't answer. "See, I knew it wasn't anything. You're lying to me."

"You really want to know?"

"Yes, I think I deserve an explanation."

"I got a girl pregnant. She gave birth to the baby over the weekend and she died from complications."

"You're lying to me." The coach refused to believe it.

"No, I'm not, but if that's what you want to believe then I can't stop you. I'm sorry I let you down Coach." And with that Wilson hung up.

X

After being awake for over twenty hours, crying most of them, Billy had finally fallen asleep at two in the morning. Instead of going to sleep like a normal person would have done, Wilson went out into the living room. He picked up the picture of Becca that Dr. Zapata had left on the coffee table the day before. He stared into it and felt tears well up in his eyes.

He didn't want to cry. He was always taught to believe that men didn't cry. But he couldn't help it. Wilson waited a few minutes to see if either of his parents was going to get up before he let loose. Deciding that it was safe enough, Wilson let the first tear stream down his face. It slowly went down his cheek, ending underneath his chin and hanging there. When it eventually dropped off, it landed on Wilson's wrist.

As soon as the tear hit, Wilson just lost it. He cried harder than he had ever remembered crying in his entire life. He cried for himself. He couldn't stand to believe that, no matter how hard he tried to do the right thing, he had failed miserably. He couldn't fix it all, like Becca had told him, and it was tearing him up inside. The changing of that simple fact altered the way his whole mind worked. He would never look at another problem the same way. Maybe, he thought, he would never try to solve a problem again. Maybe problems had no solutions, just temporary fixes until the next problem. That seemed accurate, at least with his situation.

He cried for Billy, his son that he didn't even know what to name. He loved him with a love different than the way he loved Becca, but he knew it was love all the same. He cried because Billy would never know his mother, and what an amazing and beautiful person she was. He would grow up without getting any of those maternal instincts showered upon him. Billy would never know the unconditional and complete love Becca would have given him. Billy would have to grow up in a single parent household. He would only have a sap for a father, a father who was going to be trying to play both rolls while trying to still get through high school.

And, lastly, Wilson cried for Becca. Why did she have to suffer through a difficult pregnancy and then die in the end? It was so unfair. There was so many unanswered questions, so many things that he had never told her. If he had the chance, just ten more minutes with her, Wilson would have held her and made sure that she knew that he loved her like a husband was supposed to love a wife. Wilson cried because he was unsure if Becca had ever felt truly loved. Out of this he had learned something already. Love was everything. It was the only thing worth having.

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**THE END**

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A/N: Well, it's over. All 50,005 words of it. I want to thank all of my loyal readers for sticking with me through this- especially at the times when it was really awful. This was not, by far, my best story. I attribute most of that to writing it before I was posting it for the fanfic public at large. While that can be a good exercise in writing for yourself and not your audience, it turned out to be bad. The input from the readers really helps as you go along. I would have fixed a lot of the huge character flaws had I known everyone was going to despise Wilson and Becca so much.

But, all in all, I am proud of myself. I wrote it for me and in thirty days to boot. All things considered, it wasn't too shabby.

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Thank you again everyone! Please review the final chapter.

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